


Glory & Gore

by kulina



Series: The Navy Street Chronicles [3]
Category: Kingdom (TV 2014)
Genre: Drug Use, F/F, F/M, Heroin, M/M, MMA, Minor Character Death, Murder, Self Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-03
Updated: 2017-05-28
Packaged: 2018-08-08 12:42:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 31
Words: 156,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7758265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kulina/pseuds/kulina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jay has just beaten Ryan in the octagon, but the win wasn't as wonderful as he'd hoped and now he's practically disappeared. Zoey's still trying to come to terms with her assault. Nate is trying to juggle more than ever, and he's slipping - fast.<br/>Christina struggles to stay sober, Lisa is trying to cope all alone, and Ryan is hungry to regain his alpha status in the gym. Meanwhile, Alvey's trying halfheartedly to hold them all together.<br/>To put it frankly, the entire family is standing by while the others collapse. Will they be able to pull each other back up?<br/>IMPORTANT: This is part 3! This Too Shall Pass is first, then Pieces, and then Glory & Gore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> y'all, i am 5 chapters into this and i love literally _every single chapter_ i've gotten to write so far. since i'm running out of material for the moment, i am slowing down and delving into the more personal side of things as opposed to just trying to move plot. hopefully that'll tide me over for a while.  
>  i really hope y'all enjoy this as much as i have been :) i've never been so excited to share zoey's journey with you!

Nate walked through the rows, looking into every space with care. Zoey’s birthday was coming quickly, and Nate wanted to get his present secured ahead of time. He wasn’t sure which store to look in, but he had to start somewhere. It was a little loud, and the aisles were more than a little cramped, but he quickly knew that he'd found the right place.

“This one’s not going to last long,” the girl helping him said with a sigh, pointing as she spoke. “Too fucked up.”

Nate crouched down to get a better look. “What happened?” 

“It’s a long story.” 

Nate gave her a look, and she explained. By the time she was through, Nate had already made up his mind. “Yeah, I'll take it.”

 

* * *

 

Jay and Ava's morning started with three sharp raps on the door. “Housekeeping!” 

There was a long period of shuffling before Jay opened the door. “Hey, good morning,” he greeted, voice thick from sleep. He was exhausted but still polite. 

“Do you want housekeeping?” the lady asked kindly. 

“Oh, no, no, no. Gracias, thank you,” Jay babbled.  
  
“Do you want towels?” she inquired, motioning to her stack.

“Um… yes. Yeah, I'd love some towels. Thank you.”

“How many?”

“Um, two… dos.” 

She got them out when Jay changed his mind.

“Actually, maybe cuatro.”

She smiled. “Cuatro, sí.”

She pulled two more and piled them in his arms. “Okay. Gracias. D-Do you have any of the small towels? Um, pequeños.”

“Sí, yes.” She stacked them on top.

He tucked them under his chin to balance them. “Yeah. Thank you.”

“Water?” she suggested. 

“Agua?” Jay echoed. “Yeah, that's a great idea. Mm-hmm.” 

She gave a little laugh.

He lowered his voice and asked, “Is this all free?”

She laughed again. “Sí.” 

“Oh, man. Okay.” 

“Buenos días.”

“Thank you. You too. Oh, hold on a second.” His voice was muffled behind the door as he repeated, “Hold on.” He reopened the door and passed her a small wad of cash. “Um, here you go.”

“Oh, gracias,” she said, pleasantly surprised. 

“Thank _you_.”

 

* * *

 

Nate and Zoey spent the night on the floor of Dad’s house – since the fiasco with the baby, he’d been much more lenient on his kids and the rule about sleeping in beds. He let them stay up as long as they wanted watching movies and didn’t wake them when he found them both fast asleep in their small blanket fort. It was kind of nice for Alvey to see Nate acting so youthful again. He’d lost that with Zoey gone. It was incredible to see how much of a difference she and Nate made in each other’s lives.

Jay spent the night (again) in the hotel with Ava. He wished he could stay there forever, just fucking her and getting high. Room service was severely underrated, and he was growing to love the maids. His body itched for a workout, but he ignored it in favor of lying around lazily with his new girl.

Alvey asked an attorney out for drinks and then headed back to the gym to coach Alicia. There were two guys waiting for his fighter outside, though. 

“Hey. Alicia Mendez, right?” 

Alicia stopped and nodded. “Who are you?” 

“Kevin Bostic. I own a company called OC Atomic. We make athletic apparel. Extreme sports… a lot of flavor, a lot of attitude. You ever heard of us?”

She shook her head. “No. Sorry.”

He smiled. “No worries. We're a new company. We're just getting into MMA, and we're looking for talent. I was at your fight... fucking mind-blowing! You mowed that chick down! It was so fucking rad. My boys and I were going nuts.” 

Alicia laughed. 

“So, anyway, I thought I'd track you down, see if maybe you'd be interested in doing a little modeling for us. It's just for the website. Obviously, we'd pay you.”

That grabbed her attention. “How much?”

“Two grand. It'd be like an hour.”

Oh god, that sounded so fucking good… “Let me run it by my manager,” she smiled. 

“Yeah. Yeah, of course.” He turned away from her. “Yo, Rob, grab those samples.” The guy passed him a bag, and he handed it to Alicia. “Here's some samples. They're all my designs. It's all made in Orange County, so it's none of that Chinese bullshit. Try them on. See if you like them.” 

“Okay.”

He handed her a business card. “I'm shooting some pro skaters tonight. If you want to come by, my cell's there, give me a shout.” 

“All right, I will.”

“Hey. Awesome to meet you. Alright, we're big fans. You are fucking great.”

She laughed again. “Alright.” 

“Hit me up.”

Alicia disappeared into the gym and went into the locker room to change. The pants fit, but she wasn’t exactly sure about them.

“Wow,” Alvey said, trying not to laugh when she walked out to train. “Look at you.”

“What?”

He raised his eyebrows. “'What’? It's very _Enter the Dragon_.” 

“Do they suck?” she asked.

“Nnnnn… yes. They're – they're horrible. Who makes those things?”

“These guys,” Alicia said, passing him the card. “They're called OC Atomic. They want me to model for them.” 

“Hm,” he said. He studied it for a moment.

“It's like two grand for an hour photo shoot.”

Alvey shrugged and handed the card back to her. “I never heard of these guys.”

“So, what, you don't think I should do it?” 

“You like those pants?”

She held her hands out. “I mean, I like two grand.” 

“You talk to Lisa about it?” 

“I left her a message.”

“What do they want these photos for?”

“Their website.” 

“Really?” Alvey shook his head. “I don't think you should do it, hon. These guys aren't real.”

“Look, they seem pretty cool,” Alicia defended.

“They're not ‘pretty cool.’ These guys eat on the edge. They're not players. Tell them, thanks, but no thanks. Cause you're training for a fight. Which you are, because I'm gonna get you a fight. Garo's interested so...”

“Really?” she asked hopefully.

“Yes. Really. Now go take those fucking pants off, cause they're giving me a headache. Hurry up!” He clapped loudly as she jogged back to the locker room. “Come on, hurry up! Sparring day! Sparring day!”

 

* * *

 

“Dude, where are you?” Nate whispered into the phone. He was making a pot of coffee for Christina while put on new clothes after her shower. “Listen, uh, Mom's home, okay? Something happened at rehab. She's fine, but, um. She's here now. Call me back, all right? Or come home. Please. Bye.” 

“You heard from your brother?” Christina’s wispy voice asked as she came around the corner. 

“No, not yet.” He poured a generous helping of the coffee into a mug and pressed it into her hands. “Here.”

“Thank you.” 

They sat down at the rickety table. “How do you feel?” he asked.

“I'm okay.”

There was an awkward silence. “So, what do you think is gonna happen to this guy?”

Christina took a slow sip. “They arrested him. He's gonna lose his license. I'm pretty sure his wife's gonna leave him.” She shrugged carelessly. “His life's shit.” 

Nate looked away.

“I… I told them I don't want to press charges.”

He looked at her incredulously. God, there was so much fucking pain in this family, and she was the only one in any position to really do something to solve hers – and she wouldn’t?! Nate tried not to be pissed off.

“You went through a similar situation and you didn't want to press charges, either,” she reminded. “You know what it's like.”

It wasn’t the same. The guys that had attacked Nate were literally going to kill him or his family if he did anything, and Zoey said in her case there was a threat out against the family if she spilled, too. God.

“I don't want to make a big deal about this. Especially to Jay.”

Nate nodded. _That_ he could get behind. “Yeah. Whatever you want.” He sat up a little straighter. “Um, I should probably get to the gym. I'm covering Lisa's work while she's gone.” 

“How is she?” 

Nate fell silent. God, it was bad enough to think about it – he didn’t want to be the one to have to tell someone, especially when that someone was a mom. He swallowed. “She, uh...” He swallowed again. “She lost the baby.”

Christina’s breath caught in her throat. “Oh, shit.”

“Yeah,” Nate muttered.

“Oh my god.” Christina’s shock and empathy were written all over her face. “Have you… Have you spoken to her?”

“No. Nobody has. We've all reached out, but no.”

“How's your father?”

Nate sighed tiredly. “He's dealing with it, I think. But... I don't know. Jay and Zebra are fucking heartbroken, so I can’t imagine how he and Lisa must feel.” 

“So awful,” she whispered. 

“Yeah,” he agreed softly. An awkward silence settled over them, and Nate could feel a sadness blooming in his chest. He was upset, too. I mean, at least it wasn't like the baby was born and then he died, but it was still painful. And confusing. It made him think a lot about his own mortality. He forced himself back into the moment. “Yeah. Well, I should probably go.”

“Okay.”

“If you need me, just call. Um… You good here?”

“Yeah, I'm fine. I'm going to take a nap.” 

“Okay.” Nate went up to her and pecked her cheek. “See you later.”

 

* * *

 

 Nate had barely been at the gym for an hour before the phone on Lisa's desk went off. Nate picked it up and was told to come to the front desk; he had a visitor.

“He's waiting,” Shelby said to Nate, motioning to a tall man just inside the door.

“Nate,” he greeted shortly. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Nate muttered angrily.

“I've got something for you,” Will said. 

“This way,” Nate replied, grabbing him roughly by the arm and steering him outside before Will could open his bag in the lobby. “Is that your car?” Nate asked, motioning to the fanciest one in the parking lot. 

“It is,” Will confirmed. 

“Good. Get inside, and get the fuck out of here, okay? I don't want to see you again.” 

“This is for you,” Will said, trying to hand him an envelope from his messenger bag. 

“What the fuck's wrong with you?” Nate spat. 

Will laughed darkly. “What's wrong with me? I have a shit job working for an even shittier man. That's what's wrong with me. And you're not the only one.” Will opened his bag so Nate could peek in. There were four more envelopes there waiting to be delivered. “Think I like doing this?” He shook his head. “Please take the money. He's not even going to contact you. I'm sorry, alright? I know it's disgusting.”

“Then why do you do it?”

“Because the last three guys that had my job are now partners at the agency, that's why. It's the Hollywood way. Look, Nate, you might as well get something out of it.”

Nate snatched the envelope. “Seriously, though, I don't want to hear from this guy again, okay?” he snapped. 

“You won't.” 

He found his way back inside and dropped tiredly into Lisa’s desk chair. He opened the envelope to glance at the money – maybe the cash was worth getting fucked. 

No! 

Well… maybe. It was _twenty thousand dollars_ now _._ That was almost as much as he and Jay made in six months combined. 

Ugh.

He thumbed through the stack, and his eyes widened when something tumbled out and onto the floor. Nate leaned down and picked up the business card that had fallen to the ground. _Mea culpa,_ it read in rushed black pen. _Dinner?_

Mea culpa. What did that mean again? Jay used to say it sometimes when he made a mistake. ‘My bad,’ right?

The door swung open, and Nate about had a coronary. He shoved the money and the card onto the laptop’s keyboard and tilted the screen several inches down. “Hey.” 

Alvey chuckled at his panicked reaction. “What, are you whacking off?” 

“What? N-Nothing,” Nate stuttered, which didn’t even make sense. But that was the word that came out, so there it was. 

“Yeah? You look a little jumpy. What's going on?” 

“I'm very busy right now. Did you,” he laughed nervously, “come to talk about something or…?” 

“‘Very busy,'” Alvey mocked. He fell onto the couch. “Yes. I came to find out if you spoke to Dr. Ember. If you got clearance.” 

Nate slid a drawer open, pulled out a piece of paper, and walked across the room to hand it to his father.

Alvey grunted in approval as he scanned it. "Fully healed. Excellent.” He put the paper on the couch next to him. “I got a call for you today. Local card, really good promoter. You interested?” 

Nate leaned back against the desk and crossed his arms. “Yeah. Who's the guy?”

“Don't know yet. I wanted to talk to you first.”

Nate crossed his arms over his chest and tilted his chin up. “Anybody. I don't care.”

“Well, _I_ care, sonny boy. Let me see if it's a good matchup. If it is I'll lock it in, okay?” 

“Thank you.”

“You're welcome.” 

“Alright. See you later.”

As soon as Alvey was out of the room, Nate stuffed the card and the money back into the envelope and slid that into the pocket inside his jacket. He stared at the spreadsheet he was supposed to be keeping up with until his head ached. Then he got up to get some answers about his brother, who was still MIA.

“Hey, Alicia. Have you seen Jay?” She was in the middle of wrestling, but he didn’t give a fuck. 

“He's probably still with Ava.”

”Where's she?” 

Her voice was strained as she replied, “Probably still in the hotel.” 

He stared at her for a moment and then started to walk away. “Kick your leg down,” he advised over his shoulder.

 

* * *

 

“Against all odds and any rational thought, I… I woke up feeling pretty good today.”

“How's the drinking been?”

Alvey snorted. “Strong.”

“So you've been drinking heavily?”

“Heavily, huh? I don't know. It's person to person, yeah? I know guys who take a shot of tequila, and they're pissing on a cop car. And then guys like my father, my old man – a fifth of vodka every day, and his hand was steady as a surgeon. Vicious man. Never sloppy. Yeah. Up at the crack of dawn every day. Perfect Windsor knot in his tie.”

“I thought he had trouble holding down a job?” Dr. Kramer inquired.

“Oh, he never had a fucking job, but he loved that tie.” He laughed cynically. “Yeah. He was an arrogant man. Liked to put on airs. But you could _never_ tell when he was drunk. See what I'm saying?” His mind caught up with his mouth. “Why are we having this conversation?” 

“I was asking about your drinking.” 

“Oh. My drinking.” Alvey held his hands up. “Alcohol's not my problem, Doc.” 

“Well, it's a depressant,” he pointed out. 

Alvey sat forward. “You know what's a depressant? A dead baby is a depressant. A lawsuit is a depressant. My daughter tearing my room apart looking for my gun is a depressant. Alcohol? It's a kind of relief. Jesus Christ. I told you I was having a good day, Doc.” He sighed deeply, falling back against the sofa.

“Tell me about your daughter and the gun,” Dr. Kramer said, immediately concerned. 

Alvey shrugged. “Ah, she’s fine. It’s not even there. Remember my friend Sean who killed himself?”

“Yes.”

“He used my gun, which he stole from me,” he said, reciting the lie just in case. “It’s still in Evidence at the police department.” 

“I’m less concerned with that and more with the reason she was looking for it.”

“I don’t fucking know. She was just sitting in there crying. All my shit was on the floor. I know that was what she wanted; there was nothing else it could have been.”

“Did you ask her about it?”

Alvey huffed a laugh. “No, we didn't fucking talk about it. I made her a drink.”

“She’s seventeen,” the therapist reminded flatly. 

Alvey just shrugged.

“She’s in treatment, though, yes?”

“Yeah, yeah. She sees a therapist.” 

“Good. What’s their name?”

“Uh… Winchester, I think.” 

“Samuel Winchester? Runs his own practice a little east of here?”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s him.” 

The man made several notes on his notepad. “If anything like this ever happens again, you call me right away. Do you understand?”

Alvey raised his eyebrows slightly. 

“This is very serious. If she’s a danger to herself or to anyone else, it’s your responsibility as her parent to get her to an emergency room.”

Alvey started to protest, but the doctor cut him off.

“No exceptions. Her age is not an argument here. From what you’ve told me about her, and from what I saw when I met her, it’s clear that she’s in an incredible amount of pain. She feels things very deeply, and I’m extremely concerned for her.”

“Ah, she’ll be fine.”

“ _Alvey_.”

“I asked a woman out,” he offered, desperate for a change of subject.

“On a date?”

“No, for drinks. God forbid. Roxy... she's my lawyer. Tough, good-looking girl. She's got a great ass.” He chuckled. “Closer to my own age.”

Dr. Kramer sighed. “Do you feel ready for this?”

“For what?”

“For getting involved with another woman.” 

“What do you mean? Because of Lisa?” 

“Among other things. You've got a lot on your plate.” 

“Are you saying I don’t deserve to be fucking happy? I'm not even fucking happy. I'm just interested in this woman. I mean, I should feel bad about that?”

“Of course not. No, you feel how you feel. I was just… pointing out a pattern,” the man said carefully.

“What pattern?” 

“When you feel pain, you reach out for external coping mechanisms: alcohol, women, fighting…”

“Isn't that how fucking people live? What do you want me to do? You want me to crawl up in a – in a hole, Doc? I got people depending on me. You know what I mean? I'm doing the best I fucking can.”

 

* * *

 

Nate knocked on the door to the hotel room from Saturday night.

“No, thank you, please!” his older brother called. 

“Jay, it's me. Come on.” 

Jay sounded positively joyful. “What?!” The lock clicked, and Jay flung the door open to embrace his little brother. “Nathaniel, ‘do not disturb’ per the sign. Hmm?”

Nate ignored him and flatly said, “Your phone's dead.”

Jay just laughed. 

One look in his eyes had Nate asking, “What are you on right now?”

“Um… I am on… vacation.”

Nate shook his head. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah, dude, get in here. Come on. Get in here.” 

He stepped into the room and wrinkled his nose. “Jesus, it reeks in here.”

“Well, that is the smell of sexual intercourse. I have been making it nonstop. What's up?”

“Mom's home.”

Jay made a confused face. “She's got another week.” 

“What's she doing home?”

“It's not her fault, okay?” Nate began. “Um, the…. the counselor…”

“Yeah?” 

“Or the – the therapist... whatever. Um, he... he tried to rape her or something.” 

Jay’s eyes widened. 

“Uh... It didn't happen. She fought him off. But she's home now, though. Okay? And I've been trying to fucking call you.” 

Jay turned around, fuming. He walked away from Nate, trying to keep composure, but he smashed everything from the end table onto the floor. Once the crash was over, he said tightly, “Okay. Well, I guess we're gonna go home, then.” 

 

* * *

 

 

Zoey’s phone rang, and she tilted her head in confusion at the number. Usually _she_ called _them_. “Hello?” she asked.  
  
“Hey, Zee. It’s Sam.”

“Hi,” she replied curiously. “What’s up?”

“Well, I'm actually calling to see if you could come in today.” 

“For what?” 

“A session.”

“What?” 

“Well, somebody called me concerned about you, and I wanted to talk to you about it.” 

Zoey felt fear claw in her chest. “Who?”

“I can’t tell you that,” Sam reminded. “But there’s no pressure. You’re not in any trouble. I just want to see where your head’s at right now.”

God, with everything that had been going on, that might not be so bad. “Um, okay. What time?” 

“My afternoon is pretty clear. I’m free until 2 and then again from 4 to 6.” 

“Well, I mean, I can come now if you want.” 

“Now would be great,” Sam said, and she could hear the smile in his voice. God, he sounded so fucking relieved. What the hell was going on? 

“Okay. I’ll be there in like twenty-five minutes.” 

She walked to the bus stop and thought through everything that had happened – who would have called Sam? Maybe Jay and Nate again. But she hadn’t done anything dumb in front of them, and she was cutting on her upper thigh where no one could see. She tried to push the thoughts out of her mind.

Zoey sat down across from a Hispanic single mom with an armful of groceries and a young child who looked about three years old. He was whining at his mother in Spanish and kicking his little feet back and forth until his eyes locked onto Zoey’s t-shirt, which had a doodle of a Coke can drawn on it. 

Zoey smiled at him. “You like Coke?” she asked, pointing at the picture. 

He nodded happily.

“Yo también,” she replied. _Me too._ “I like Sprite, too.”

“Y Fanta!” he cried.

“Sí,” Zoey laughed. “And Fanta.”

The mom smiled at Zoey, thankful for the distraction for her child. He’d been getting a little antsy. They got off at the stop right after the where Zoey had gotten on, though, and she was sad. It’d been a nice distraction for her as well.

She curled her hair behind her ear and slid her headphones into her ears as she watched them walk to the projects with their grocery bags. God bless them. She mentally murmured a quick prayer for them like Ellen had taught her to. At the thought of Ellen, she tacked Reunited onto her prayer list. She missed them so much.

The 1975 played in her ears the rest of the ride to Sam’s. She left her music playing in her headphones as she walked in the door. Sam was waiting for her with his office door open, and he ushered her in as soon as she entered. 

“I’m so glad to see you,” he said, shutting the door quietly behind her. 

She pulled her phone out and stopped her music, wrapping her headphones quickly around them. “What’s going on?” she asked, sitting down at her usual spot on the couch.

“Well, like I said on the phone, someone called me. They were very concerned about you.”

“Why?”

“Well, I heard a little story about you looking for a gun?” Sam asked, his eyebrows raised.

Oh, _fuck._  

“Uh…”

“Is that true?” he pressed. 

She didn’t know Alvey had realized what she was doing. Fuck, fuck, fuck. This was so fucking bad. They were going to send her to a goddamn mental hospital. 

“No.”

Sam pursed his lips and then lowered his voice as if he were talking to a frightened animal. “Zee… I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s going on. And I really, really want to help you. Okay?” 

She shrugged.

“I know it’s scary to talk about suicidal feelings. But have you had any?”

She shook her head.

“Alright,” Sam replied, readjusting in his chair. “I’m gonna level with you, okay? I’ve never had a patient come through here that’s been sexually assaulted – male or female – that didn’t have suicidal thoughts. Not one patient, Zee.” 

She swallowed.

“It doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with you. You’ve gone through a massive trauma, and I’d be surprised if you didn’t have any dark thoughts like that.” 

She looked at the floor. 

“Were you going to hurt yourself the other night?” 

She shrugged weakly. “I don’t know,” she mumbled.

“But you were looking for your dad’s gun?” 

She hesitated and then nodded. For a moment, she lost control of herself and burst into tears. The weakness only lasted about two seconds, though – she was done crying before Sam could pass her a box of Kleenex. She took one and wiped aggressively at her eyes. Black eyeliner smeared wetly on the white tissue. “Sorry,” she muttered. 

“No, no, it’s okay. This is a safe space. So tell me what was going through your head. What were you going to do with the gun? Did you want to shoot yourself?”

“I hadn’t decided,” she said softly, deciding to tell the truth. “I just wanted to hold it. I think about dying a lot, but I don’t know if I want to actually do it or if I just like thinking about it.” 

Sam nodded in understanding. “That’s an incredible observation. Most people don’t have that kind of clarity about their thoughts.”

She chuckled humorlessly. “I’ve had a lot of time to think about it, I guess.”

“So you’ve had these thoughts for a long time?” 

She shrugged. “Since after It happened.” 

“How soon after?”

“Like… half an hour.”

“Oh, wow,” Sam said, making a note. “Why so quickly?”

“I was, like. Disgusting. I don’t know. And it was fucking embarrassing. And scary. As soon as I got to my dad’s and the danger was over, I started thinking about how things would be better if I was dead.” 

Sam nodded, still writing on his clipboard. “So you were looking for the gun… is that what you would use to kill yourself?” 

“I don’t know,” she said again. “I thought about pills for a while, but I feel like the gun would be more effective.” 

“Statistically, it is,” Sam told her. 

She nodded. “I know. But men usually do that, and girls are supposed to OD cause it’s less violent.” 

“You did your research,” Sam observed. “What else have you been looking up?”

She shrugged. “Nothing, really. I can’t do too much or I get upset.”

“Why?”

“Um, something Nate told me once. He said that if I died, that Jay would fucking kill himself because he’d be so upset, and then Nate would be the only one of us left, so he would kill himself too.”

Sam raised his eyebrows. “Wow. That sounds… codependent.”

“We’re pretty fucked up,” Zoey said, not knowing what the word ‘codependent’ meant, “but all we’ve ever had is each other.” 

“Do you have a date set to take your life?”

“No,” Zoey answered truthfully. “I’m not that kind of person, I think.” She watched Sam writing. “Are you going to call the police?” she asked, fiddling with one of her bracelets.

He looked over his notes and then up at his patient. “No, Zee, I’m not. But I’m pretty concerned about you. I want to start seeing you twice a week instead of once. Does that sound okay?”

She nodded. 

“I’d also feel more comfortable if I talked to Jay about this. You’re almost eighteen, so I'm going to leave it up to you, but I would feel much better knowing you had someone at home that was aware of what’s going on. He could maybe make your homes a little bit safer. Would that be alright with you?” 

Zoey slowly shook her head. 

“Are you sure?” Sam asked. “You told me once that you wish you’d told Jay right away when you were attacked.” 

She looked away. Fuck. Sam was right. “Okay. You can tell him,” she whispered.

God, this was so fucking bad.

 

* * *

 

Mario flipped on his recorder and set it on the patio table. “Alright, I'm here with Ryan Wheeler. Ryan, thanks for sitting down.” 

The fighter nodded.

“You mind talking?” Mario asked. “It's all audio.”

“Yeah, sorry. Sorry, man.” 

“First off, I just want to say sorry about your father who passed away recently.” 

He nodded. “Thank you.” 

“That must have weighed heavily on your mind. Was it difficult to train and prepare for your fight with Jay?”

“Uh, no, actually kind of the opposite. We, you know... The gym is like a sanctuary and – and I can go there and just put stuff aside and focus on my training.”

“I hear that a lot with fighters. It's a cliché.”

Ryan raised his eyebrows at the rudeness but didn’t comment. 

“When I watched your fight with Jay, you just didn't look like yourself. Talk to me about the camp. Did you do anything different? Did you make any changes?”

“No, I had a good camp. Felt... Felt strong and, uh, I was ready.” 

“You seemed to be favoring the left leg. You didn't have that same explosion we're used to seeing from you.”

He shrugged. “Jay cracked me with some hard kicks and – and that… made it so I couldn't push off. It kind of neutralized my – my ability to take him down. Made me one-dimensional.” 

“Were you injured before the fight?”

“No.” 

“Rumor has it you were fighting on a torn or partially torn MCL.” 

“No, Jay... Jay had a great game plan. He won the fight.”

“Were you injured coming into the fight? Yes or no.”

“Jay won the fight, and that's all I'm gonna say about that.” 

“Were you 100%?” 

“Mario, you see, you're – you're trying to stir shit up.”

“Were you 100%?” 

“No!” Ryan snapped. “But it… but it… but…" Ryan leaned forward. "Here's what you got to understand. We fight hurt all the time. It's – it’s – it’s not an excuse. It's... Jay was the better man. That's all there is to it.”

“Have you spoken to Jay since the fight?”

“No, but that doesn't mean anything. There's no problem between us.”

“Do you feel like he took advantage of your injury?”

“I feel like Jay put on a hell of a show, and he put my ass to sleep, and that's all I'm gonna say about it.”

“Fair enough. Any talk of a rematch?”

“No, not yet. I mean, got to see what Garo wants to do and what Alvey thinks.”

“But you want another shot at Jay, right?” 

“Yeah. Fuck yeah, I do.”

 

* * *

 

Jay knocked softly on his mom’s bedroom door.

“Come in,” she called, leaning up on one elbow in bed. When she saw that it was Jay, she sat all the way up. “I'm fine. I'm fine,” she placated before he could even speak.

“Who is he?” he asked, crouching down next to her bed.

“Mnh-mnh, Jay….” 

“What's his name?” 

“No way. Don't even think about it.” 

“I just want to talk to him,” he whispered. 

“Jay. No. You will make this way harder on me if you do something stupid and get yourself into trouble. I am going to move past this, and you have to respect that. Please.”

He nodded and rested his head on her lap. 

“Thank you.” 

“I'm sorry. I... I thought it was a good place.” 

“No, no, no, no, no. Shh. Listen to me. Listen."

He looked up at her.

"I'm doing _really_ well. I'm not gonna backslide. I'm finished. I can handle this. You don't have to worry about me.” 

He laid his head back in her lap.

“You look all worn out,” she said, rubbing a hand over his hair.

He took a deep breath.

“Why don't you go get yourself something to eat. Hmm? I'm gonna rest, and we'll talk later. Okay?”

Jay went quietly to the door and shut it behind himself. He sighed, stopping in the hallway and taking a moment to collect himself. He was just finishing his deep breath when his phone started vibrating in his pocket. He headed for the couch, flipping it open without checking the display. “Hello?” 

“Hi, Jay? This is Sam Winchester. I have Zee in my office, and I wanted to talk to you about something before she comes home.” 

“It’s not Thursday,” Jay stated, a little confused. He settled into his pillows.

“I know. I got a call from someone who was concerned about her, and she agreed to come in today to talk about it.”

“What's wrong?" 

“Well, that’s why I’m calling. I’m very concerned about her, Jay. Very concerned. The person who called tipped me off to the fact that she was looking through your dad’s dresser for a gun.”

Jay’s stomach dropped.

“She’s expressed to me that she’s experiencing suicidal thoughts on a regular basis. Now, I’m going to send her home because she says she doesn’t have the intention to act on them, but we need to watch this carefully, alright?” 

“Y-yeah,” Jay agreed.

“If anything – _anything_ – seems off, you call 911, or you call me. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” Jay said. “Can I come get her?”

“Of course.” There was a muffled conversation between Zoey and Sam away from the phone, and then Sam’s voice came back over the line. “She says that’s fine.” 

“Okay, I’m leaving now,” Jay told him, getting off the sofa and going to the kitchen for his keys. 

The twelve minute trip to the office felt like forever. When Jay finally pulled up, his sister was sitting on the curb outside waiting for him. She stood up and walked to his car door. Jay got out, immediately opening his arms for her. She fell into his chest and rested her head just over his heart. 

“I hear you this time,” Jay murmured to her. “Okay? I hear you. I’m fucking listening."

She nodded quickly, pulling him as close as she could. She was simultaneously relieved and terrified to have let Jay into her pain.

"We're gonna get you more help, alright, Little Zee? We're gonna fucking help you, and it's gonna get better. You'll feel better." He started rubbing her back as he spoke. "Maybe we can try medicine or something, yeah? Or yoga. Or we can, like, eat fucking kale," he teased. He kissed the top of her head and turned serious again. "Whatever helps, we're gonna do it. You're not alone."

She pulled back to look at him."You n' me n' Nate?" she asked hopefully.

"You n' me n' Nate," he repeated fondly. He rubbed a hand over her forehead and down her cheek. "I'm fucking listening to you, okay?"

She nodded. “I love you so much,” she told him quietly, leaning back into his embrace. 

He held her tighter. “I love you, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> feedback makes me happyyyy  
> and make sure you check out the new kingdom one-shot i posted! it's called the golden gate dream. there's also a star wars/kingdom crossover and some other good stuff in there. click my author page :))


	2. Chapter 2

“Hey. It's Alicia Mendez. Is this Kevin?” She laughed. “Yeah. Um, no, nothing. I talked to my people, and if you guys still want to do that photo shoot, I'm down. Two thousand right?”

 

* * *

 

Jay drove Zoey back to the big house where they met up with Nate. Jay didn’t tell him what was going on, but the middle sibling could tell that things were off anyway.

Nate and Zoey stayed downstairs, sitting silently on the bar stools in the kitchen while Jay went up and did a thorough search of Zoey’s room for knives, blades, and anything sharp. He found another pair of scissors in her desk, a dismantled razor with a couple skinny blades, and one of the bread knives from the kitchen. He wrapped everything in a towel and headed to Dad’s room to double check that the gun was nowhere to be found. Once he was satisfied, he took the towel outside and tucked it away under the driver’s seat of his car. 

“I’m sorry,” Zoey muttered, embarrassed, when he came back in.

Jay just kissed her temple. “I’m just glad I know,” he told her. 

She nodded tiredly and rested her head on the counter.

Nate looked between them worriedly, but he didn’t say a word.

 

* * *

 

“Hey, man.”  
  
“Hey. You in the middle of something?”

“No, no, I'm good. What's up?”

“Just checking in.” 

“Okay. How's your knee?”

“I'm icing it, trying to... trying to keep the swelling down.”

“Okay, good. Well, just keep doing that.” At the pause, Alvey asked, “Something else you want to say, Ryan?” 

“Well... I might have fucked up just a little bit today.” 

Alvey sighed. “How?” 

“Uh... I had an interview with Mario Goldsmith.”

Alvey dropped his head into his hand. “Why the fuck would you do that?” 

“I don't know. He just kept calling.”

“Oh, well, that's a great reason,” Alvey scoffed sarcastically. 

“So, he asked me about my knee. Somehow he knew that it was fucked up before the fight. And I was clear that it was not an excuse.” 

“Uh-huh.” 

“But, I mean, he seemed like he had an agenda, so...” 

“You think?” 

“Well, I don't know how he's going to write it. But, I mean, I'm worried that it might piss off Jay.” 

“Well, I'd say there's about a one hundred and fifty percent chance that Jay's gonna be pissed off.” 

“I'm sorry about that, coach.” 

“Alright, we'll deal with it.” 

“You're not pissed... right?”

Alvey sighed again. “Nah. But do me a favor. Don't... Don't talk to any of these cunts, alright? Especially that cunt.”

“Okay. Sorry, coach.”

“Alright. Just keep the ice on the knee, alright? I'll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And don't fucking talk to anybody.” 

“Alright.” 

Alvey hung up the call and let his phone fall onto the counter. He shook his head and muttered, “Idiot.”

 

* * *

 

After Zoey went upstairs to bed, Jay approached Nate in Alvey's kitchen.

“Nate, I need you to take me back to the hotel. Woo!”

Nate looked at him skeptically. "You're not gonna stay here tonight? Or at our place?” 

“Zoey’s passed out, Mom's going to sleep… they’ll be fine. I'll be back tomorrow morning. I… want to go back to the hotel.” He sniffed loudly.

Nate looked him over. “If you do any more cocaine, your fucking heart's gonna explode," he told his brother frankly.

“I have been living like a fucking _Mormon_ for the past three months. My heart is strong, okay? I know how to decompress without it being a fucking emergency, or you staring at me with those big, brown, beautiful, Bambi doe eyes. Huh?” He caught Nate around the neck and pressed their foreheads together. He sniffed again. “Hmm?” 

Nate sighed. “Fine.”

Jay sniffed again. “Excellent. Now look, I can either go to Ava's, or I can find the guy who fucked with Mom, and I can murder him. Now, I am trying – really fucking hard – to make the right choice. But I need your help.” 

Jay was going to go one way or another, and he was definitely in no shape to drive. Nate sighed again, conceding. “I'll take you back to the hotel.”

“Excellent. Also, I need to stop at the wine and condom store, so… two stops.”

Nate rolled his eyes. “Yeah.”

Jay grinned. “Excellent.” 

The younger brother dropped the older one off at the motel and sat in the parking lot, unsure of where to go or how he was supposed to feel. It had been an overwhelming fucking day. He fiddled with the business card he’d kept tucked away in his wallet, pulling it out and dialing the number printed on it.

“Hi, you've reached Will Casady of the Burns Agency. Please leave a detailed message after the beep.”

“Hey. It's, uh. It's Nate Kulina. Um, I got your note. Your card." He paused awkwardly. "Uh, this is my number. You can… call me if you want. Okay.”

He hung up, shifted the car back into gear, and drove tiredly back to Dad’s house.

 

* * *

 

“Lady, I'm home!” Jay called, walking through the heavy hotel room door.

“Ta-da,” Ava smiled as Jay’s eyes fell on the fancy table filled with food. The entire room had been completely cleaned, and there were candles and flowers all over the place.

“You do all of this? Hmm?” he asked.

“No,” she admitted. “The maids did. But I asked them to.” 

“I'm on empty. I'm gonna call Mac and get a fill up.”

“No,” she said softly. 

“Yeah.” 

“Mnh-mnh.”

“Mm-hmm.”

“We need sleep.” She held out two blue pills. “Take these. Valium.”

He obeyed, dry swallowing them both at once. “Ahh,” he breathed softly.

“Sit,” she directed, and he obeyed again, taking a seat at the table. She unfolded a napkin and draped it across his lap, quietly serving him. “Are you hungry?” she asked, holding out a fry.

He just looked at her, tears suddenly filling his eyes. 

“Me neither,” she murmured.

It had to have been the placebo effect, the way he came down so quickly, but damn, between Mom and Zee, he’d had a hard day.

Ava took a bite of the fry she'd offered to Jay, and Jay allowed himself to lean into her shoulder. She wrapped a hand around his head and gently petted his hair. He was so drained. He let her hold him there for what felt like hours before they climbed into bed and finally got some sleep.

 

* * *

 

Zoey stood in a blindingly white hallway. She nervously curled her hair behind her ear and took a step forward. Her body was shaky, and she suddenly felt an overwhelming wave of nausea. Oh, fuck. She clutched at her stomach, stumbling but still moving forward.

Ahead of her, a phone rang. A quiet woman’s voice answered, but she couldn’t make out the words. Where the fuck was she?

When she tucked her hair behind her ear again, she noticed something lightly tickling her arm. She glanced down, and her eyes landed on a paper bracelet wrapped around her wrist. 

KULINA, ZOEY GRACE, it read. 8/01/1997. NO ACTIVE ISOLATIONS.

A hospital bracelet. What the hell was she doing in the hospital? How did she get there? She fidgeted with it, staring at it as though it would talk if she looked long enough. 

Nate appeared down the hall, pale and worried. “Zebra,” he said urgently, motioning her to him. And then again. “Zebra.” 

Zoey tried to walk toward her brother, but it was if her feet were trapped in deep mud. She couldn’t budge. She called out to him, but her voice was muffled by a gag that had suddenly appeared in her mouth. She reached up to pull it out, but it was too tight. Shit.

“Wake up.” 

In real life, someone shook her shoulder, and she woke. Nate was crouching down next to where she was lying on the floor, but as soon as her eyes opened, he stood up and motioned her forward. “Come on.”

“What?” she asked. 

“Come on. We’re going to my room.” 

“No,” she muttered, readjusting her head on her pillow, but Nate yanked her quilt off her legs. 

“I’m not fucking around,” he said shortly.

She sat up, a little freaked out. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing. Just come on.” 

“Okay.” Something was definitely up with him. Still, she followed behind him, not wanting to upset him further. They went into his room, and she started to sit down in her normal spot on his carpet, but he snapped at her again. 

“No. Up here.”

She gave him a confused look but obeyed. She sat down on his bed, trying to ignore the squishy feeling of it beneath her. It felt better than it had the last time she laid down in a bed. Maybe because she’d finally gotten used to the couch.

Nate fumbled in his nightstand for a moment while Zoey got settled under the thick, navy comforter. He pulled something out of his drawer and passed part of it to her. Headphones. She took one earbud and watched as he scrolled through his phone. He settled on something but didn’t press play right away.

“Sorry I woke you up,” he said. His voice was much calmer this time. 

“S’okay.” 

“Okay.”

He clicked the play button, and [an unfamiliar song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LIflVDavwBo) filled Zoey’s ears. _Jesus Christ, that’s a pretty face..._

“Go to sleep,” he muttered to her, setting his phone down on his chest. 

She rested her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes. “I can’t fucking sleep in a bed, Nate. You know that.”

“Just try,” he sighed. 

_Do you believe you're missing out?_   
_That everything good is happening somewhere else?_   
_But with nobody in your bed_   
_The night's hard to get through_

_And I will die all alone_   
_And when I arrive, I won't know anyone_

Zoey opened one eye and looked up at her brother as he stared at the ceiling. He didn't seem focused on the music, but this song was pretty fucking dark. “What’s going on with you?” she asked.

He shook his head. “Nothing, I’m fine. Just…” 

“Just what?”

He blew out a frustrated breath. “Nothing, Zebra. Be quiet.” 

She fell silent and, after a moment, shut her eyes again. She listened some more.

 _Well, Jesus Christ, I’m not scared to die_  
_I’m a little bit scared of what comes after_  
_Do I get the gold chariot?_  
_Do I float through the ceiling?_  
_Do I divide and fall apart?  
_ _Cause my bright is too slight to hold back my dark_

Zoey drifted into a heavy sleep.

 

* * *

 

Heavy metal music was blasting when Alicia walked into the warehouse.

“What up, lady?” Kevin asked. There was photography equipment all over, but there was no one present other than the man and his team.

“Hey,” Alicia said, getting a bit nervous. “I thought you guys were shooting some skateboarders?”

“Yeah, we finished early. It's all about you, baby.”

She smiled. “Got it.” 

“You want a drink?”

“No, I'm good,” she declined. 

“You sure?” 

“Yeah. Uh, what do you guys-” She stopped speaking as he handed her a stack of clothes. “What do you guys want me to do?”

“Oh. We'll shoot against that fence,” he said, motioning to the prop. “Lot of attitude, alright? You're a hard-ass street chick, but super hot.” 

She laughed, trying not to get uncomfortable. “Alright. Where can I change?”

“Uh, there's a room right around the corner. Rob will show you.” 

That sent up a definite red flag. Shit. “You know, I'm cool. I'm good. Thanks.” She found the door and removed her clothes, glancing periodically at the door as she changed, making sure no one would try to get in. They didn’t. She wiggled into the tight spandex and checked herself in the grimy mirror. Deep breaths. She could do this. Two grand. She could do just about anything for two grand. 

“Look at me,” Kevin coached a few minutes later. “Chin up. Chin up. Look sexy, like you want to fuck. You want to fuck. Good. Arch your back. Turn your ass towards me. Look at the camera. Look at the camera. Yeah, yeah. Better. Better. Now turn around and pop that ass out.”

He paused and looked at what he’d taken. “I mean, these are good, but I think we can just go further.”

“Okay. Um... what do you want to do?” 

“I think we take that top off. I mean, don't worry – you can put your hands over your tits, and then I'll shoot you in profile so we just get a glimpse of your ass. Just a tease.” 

“Are you fucking serious?”

“What?” 

“I mean, if I'm naked, how am I modeling your clothes?”

“I'm gonna shoot the logo, too. Is there a problem?” he spat.

Alicia decided to come clean. “Yeah. I'm uncomfortable. I mean, what are these guys even doing there? They're just watching me.” 

“Don't worry about them,” Kevin said dismissively. “They work for me.” He held out the camera again. “Look, I'll be honest; these photos suck. You're not what I was thinking. Now, you can either do what I say and try to salvage this shoot, or I'm not gonna fucking pay you.”

Alicia already had her mind made up. “Okay. Um, let me just. Let me just fix my makeup up, and – and I'll be out in a second.”

Kevin rolled his eyes. “Take your time.”

Once she was out of sight, she let herself rush to the room she’d been in before. She clicked the lock shut behind her. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she muttered.  
  
Alvey picked up on the third ring. “Hey, what's up? I'm at dinner.” 

“Hey, I'm... I'm at the photo shoot, and I'm freaking the fuck out. These guys are just really weird, alright? It's a bad vibe.” 

She could hear him sigh, but he dropped his voice to continue the conversation with her anyway. “I told you not to do it.” 

“I know, I just – there's like five guys out there, and they want me to get naked. I have no idea what the fuck to do,” she explained desperately.

“Alright, stay there,” Alvey replied calmly. “Alright? I'm gonna come get you. Don't – don't leave and… and text me the address.” 

“Thank you,” she exhaled, relieved. “I'll send it to you now.”

It felt like hours before she heard the warehouse door bang open. “Where is she?” Alvey growled.

“Room around the corner, man,” one of the guys sneered.

He walked by Kevin and spat, “Cunt.” He got to the door Alicia was behind and knocked loudly. “Open up, it's me.”

She emerged silently, dressed in her normal clothes again

“You alright?” 

“Yeah.”

“Next time, you listen to me, alright?” he said, just loud enough for her to hear.

Kevin called, “Hey, I'm not paying her.”

“Fuck you, and fuck your money, asshole,” Alvey drawled.

Kevin leered at Alicia. “Bitch.” 

Once they were safely outside, Alvey stopped to talk to her. “That was stupid,” he told her frankly. “You don't know who these fucking guys are, you know? You gotta be more careful.” He sighed. He hadn’t had to give a dad lecture in a while. “You alright to drive?” 

“Yeah. I just don't want to go back to the gym.” She shifted awkwardly. “Can I stay at your place? It'll just be for tonight.”

 

* * *

 

Nate’s teeth were falling out.

He was standing alone in front of the bathroom mirror getting ready for the day, when all of a sudden, one of them felt loose. He reached up to wiggle it to make sure he was just imagining it, and it came right out into his hand. Fuck. He checked the one next to it, and that one came out as well. 

Then he started choking – something was stuck in his throat. He coughed and coughed until he spat out two more teeth into the sink. Blood spattered onto the countertop.

Nate jolted awake and immediately reached for his mouth, running his fingers over his top teeth, making sure they were all still there. Once he relaxed a little, he laid halfway down, willing his heart to stop beating so hard. He could hear his pulse in his ears.

God, it had felt so real.

He let himself slide all the way back down onto the mattress. Zoey was still asleep, so he let himself bury his face in her shoulder. He squeezed his eyes closed and hoped sleep would come back to him quickly.

 

* * *

 

“That bath felt amazing,” Alicia declared, coming down the stairs in a pair of Zoey’s plaid PJ shorts one of her long sleeve Navy Street shirts.

“Oh, good,” Alvey replied. He was parked on the sofa, pouring himself round after round of whiskey. 

“Is that for me?” Alicia asked, motioning to the full glass on the coffee table. 

“Mm-hmm.” 

Alicia sank down on the couch next to him, picking up the drink. 

“You okay?”

She leaned forward and clinked her glass against his. “I'm better now. Thanks for letting me stay.” 

“Not a problem. Hell of a night.” 

They both chuckled, and then Alicia shifted on the sofa and lowered her voice. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

“Shoot.”

“Well… upstairs, I was trying to find Zoey’s room, since you told me I could borrow her shit.”

“Yeah.”

“And I opened the wrong door, and…” 

“What?” 

She said uncomfortably, “Nate and Zoey were sleeping together.”

Alvey huffed a laugh. “Oh, yeah. They always do that, since they were little kids. It’s fucking weird.”

“Yeah, I thought it was a little odd. But then I found Zoey’s room and her bed was made and there was a pillow and a blanket on the floor.” 

Alvey scrubbed a hand over his face. “That sounds about right. She’s been sleeping on the floor since she got back.” 

“What the fuck is up with that?” she asked. “I mean, not to be rude, cause they’re your kids. But like. It’s weird, right?” 

Alvey nodded. “Remember how we were talking about your father?” 

She nodded, too. 

“Well, to be honest, I wasn’t exactly a cake walk of a dad either. I forget you don’t know that. A lot of these guys were around then, when my kids were little, you know, so I don’t have to explain shit like this to them. But, uh. Yeah, I’ll tell you.”

She adjusted again on the couch, ready for his story.

“So, I was still fighting when Jay was born. I was married to his mom at that point, and for a long time, it was just the three of us. You might have figured out that Jay was seven years old when Nate was born. Right off the bat, Jay and Nate were inseparable. Jay wanted to be with him all the time, was always there cheering him on and supporting him and teaching him every goddamn thing he knew. And Nate was the same, very attached and always wanting to be like his big brother. ‘Jay’ was actually his first word. They were the best thing in each other’s worlds, you know?”

“That sounds like now,” Alicia observed, smiling a little.

“Well,” Alvey said, “things shifted when Zoey came into the picture.” He cleared his throat softly. “Zoey was… well, to be perfectly fucking honest, she wasn’t planned. Jay was eleven and Nate was four, and my wife and I had been about to separate. We’d always used, but she’d gotten deep into heroin. That was unacceptable to me, because I needed her to be a hundred percent focused on taking care of the kids. I was still fighting, and at that point, I’d started making plans to build the gym, so I’d started scouting talent as well. That meant I was never fucking home. But Christina got pregnant again, and she wanted to have an abortion. I said hell no.” He took a pull of his whiskey. “We’d, uh. We’d lost a baby girl a few years earlier, and when we found out Zoey was going to be a girl, I knew it was fucking fate. I could feel in my soul that it was that same fucking baby. It wasn’t a new baby; it was the same kid. And I still believe that to this day.” 

Alicia looked at him. All this truth was pouring out of him. She’d never heard him speak about himself for so long.

“Anyway, she and Nate – and my kids don’t know this, but he and that first baby were supposed to be twins. So when Zoey was born, Nate had that instant connection with her. Jay, too, because he was the one that mainly took care of her. I swear to god, she thought for a couple years that Jay was her dad. But with Nate, it was more than that. They have that fucking twin telepathy thing. I always thought that was bullshit for the movies, but…” He shook his head. “I believe in it now.” 

“Like what kinds of stuff can they do?” Alicia asked curiously. 

“They know when the other one is in pain or upset. I always used to tease Nate about being able to read Zo’s mind, but it’s not like that. Nate says they can 'feel each other's feelings.'”

“And what did _you_ do that was bad?” Alicia asked. 

“Oh, yeah. Well, I was never around. And I was… I’m not proud of it, but sometimes things got violent, especially between Jay and me. Usually just yelling matches, you know, but sometimes it escalated. It’s the fighter in me. The fighter in him, too. When Jay was fifteen, he took Nate and Zoey, and he left. Moved them into this shitty apartment a couple blocks away that he couldn’t pay for. But he tried. That fucking kid... Zoey was barely three at that point. I don’t know how the fuck he survived it.”

“Why didn’t you stop him?”

“Truth be told, I kind of wanted him gone,” Alvey admitted. “It was all fighting all the time. I didn’t know how to fix it. Probably should have put us all in family therapy or something, but it didn’t occur to me at the time. Lisa taught me about all that shit. And I was probably too fucking proud anyway.” He sighed. “But yeah, because of me, the kids were all really close. Still are. _Really_ close. I mean, not like creepy incest shit or anything, but yeah. I know it’s not normal the way they act with each other, all three of them. Nate and Zoey have always shared beds, because they didn’t have money for them to each have their own bed, let alone their own room. And the way Jay puts it, they just never outgrew it or saw it as something they shouldn't do.” 

“Hmm,” Alicia murmured.

“They’re really helping each other heal,” Alvey noted softly, defending them a little. 

Alicia tilted her head. “Yeah, about that – what happened to Zoey? Where was she?”

“Arizona,” Alvey answered, taking another drink. “Jay told me she was trying to see the Grand Canyon, but she never made it that far. Some Good Samaritan found her on the streets and took her to a runaway shelter, and she stayed there until Ryan brought her home.”

Alicia raised her eyebrows. “ _Ryan_ brought her home?” she echoed.

“Yeah,” Alvey said, looking over at her for the first time. “You didn’t know that?” 

“I thought she just came back on her own.”

“Nah, man. She sent Nate an email, and Ryan tracked it to the library it came from. He flew down to Arizona and fucking got her. They’ve always been close.” 

“But why did she leave in the first place?” 

“No one told you?” Alvey asked softly. 

Alicia shook her head. “I’ve never asked. It’s never come up.”

Alvey nodded. He’d talked about it with his therapist, so he was kind of used to saying the word. But it still bothered him to talk about it. “She, uh. She was raped.”

Alicia’s eyes widened. “No,” she whispered. 

“Yeah. Both my boys think it’s their fault, since it happened in their old house. While Nate was home, actually.” 

Alicia covered her mouth with her hands. 

“I think that’s a big reason Jay wanted to move. He couldn’t stand knowing it had happened right there and he wasn’t there to stop it.” 

“Well, who did it? Did they catch the guy?”

“She still won’t tell us,” Alvey muttered. “She knew him, which, more likely than not, means that we fucking knew him, too. I think she thinks she’s protecting us by not saying anything.” 

“Maybe she is,” Alicia responded. “You never know with fucking creeps like that.” 

Alvey nodded absently. He poured himself another generous helping of alcohol. “Yeah. It’s… she’s not doing so well, you know? It’s been fucking dark lately. Really fucking dark. But I think she’s trying. She’s in therapy. And I talked to Jay, and we’re gonna see if we can get her to maybe take some medication. Take the edge off, you know?” 

Quiet fell.

“Anyway,” he muttered.

She nodded, realizing that he wanted to be alone. “Yeah, I’m beat. I think I’m gonna turn in. Where should I sleep?”

“My bedroom.”

“What about you?” she asked.

He shook his head. “I don’t sleep there anymore.” He patted the couch. “I sleep out here.”

“Listen, I’m… I’m sorry if I ruined your night,” she murmured.

“My night? You didn’t ruin my night,” he said. “I had a great night.” 

“Thank you,” she chuckled.  
  
“You sure you’re okay?” he asked. 

“Yeah, I’m good.”

She sounded just like Zoey. “Get some sleep.” 

“Good night.”

“Night.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kudos and comments make me happy :))
> 
> additionally, i have posted my writing playlists for this too shall pass and pieces. they're on spotify, which is where i made them and used them, but this week, i uploaded them to 8tracks as well :) 
> 
> ttsp:  
> https://8tracks.com/daysofaly/this-too-shall-pass  
> https://open.spotify.com/user/1210762346/playlist/4q3zCJGlPWv5D0XuUC7VXh 
> 
> pieces:  
> https://8tracks.com/daysofaly/pieces  
> https://open.spotify.com/user/1210762346/playlist/04PHIwgTGueJDkvSDXpLMa


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ive been soooooo excited about this one since i wrote it. nate and i have been waiting for a special something for a longgg time ;)  
> also, someone (possibly more than one person idk) has been requesting a certain something, and this week is finally the week. thanks for being patient with me xoxo

That Saturday was the first day of August. When it was barely 8am, Nate started banging hard on Zoey’s door. “Goooood morning!” he called, launching through. “Get up, get up!” 

She was startled at first - it was louder than she’d heard him speak since he yelled at her a few weeks before - but at the sight of his grin, she dropped back onto her pillow. “What?” she groaned.

“It’s your birthday!” he exclaimed, crouching down to the carpet next to her. “You’re eighteen!” 

“I am?” she asked, groggy and confused. 

“You are!” 

She smiled to herself and rolled over away from him 

“Happy birthday!” Nate grinned, jostling her arm. 

She grabbed her extra pillow and slammed it over her shoulder onto his head. He laughed and shoved it away. “We've got some stuff for you. Come downstairs.” 

“Who’s ‘we’?” Zoey inquired curiously around a yawn. 

“Uh, me and Dad. And Jay came over.” 

“What time is it?” 

“Eight fifteen.” 

“And Jay’s here?” she asked. She ran her fingers through her hair a few times to smooth her waves as well as she could.

Nate shrugged. “Honestly, I don’t think he ever fucking went to sleep, but…”

Zoey snorted a laugh. “Sounds about right.” 

“Come on.” 

“Can I wear this?” she asked, motioning to her pajama shorts and navy John Bender t-shirt. 

“Yeah, whatever,” Nate said. “I don’t think anyone cares. Come on.”

She followed him down the stairs and to the family room to where Jay was sitting with the birthday book. “Come hither,” he commanded in a British accent. 

She rolled her eyes but sat down next to him on the couch without complaint. She peered over his shoulder at the pictures as he read to her, and she breathed in the aroma of the pot he must have been smoking in the car. Alvey stood in the doorway trying not to smile; he’d completely forgotten about this dumb tradition that Christina had started when Jay was three. He wondered if Nate and Zoey knew that was where it came from.

When the book was through, Alvey told his daughter to come out front. She was hoping he wasn’t going to give her a lawnmower or a pogo stick or something dumb when her eyes landed on a purple bicycle. Her hands flew up to cover her mouth, and she looked back at her father in disbelief.

“This is mine?” she asked hopefully.

He smiled. “Yep, it’s all yours.”

She went up and looked at it. It was a gorgeous, ten-speed bike decorated with small silver streaks, and it was just her size – finally. She was so excited that she ran back and embraced her father. “Thank you, Dad!” 

He rubbed her back. “It was Jay’s idea. We split it.”

She broke away from her father and ran to Jay. He was wearing rumpled clothes that smelled like sweat and marijuana, but she didn’t care. “Thank you, thank you,” she gushed, pressing her cheek to his chest.

He smiled absently and kissed the top of her head. “Happy birthday, little monkey.”

“She’s not so little anymore,” Alvey pointed out.

“Eh, she’s still a teenager,” Jay countered. “That’s good enough for me.” 

Nate cleared his throat, and Zoey looked over at him. “I have a surprise for you.” He actually looked a little nervous. “Dad and Jay are probably going to fucking kill me, but this is something I’ve wanted to do for a fucking long time. Stay here, okay? I’ll be right back.”

He disappeared around the front of the house, and Zoey looked curiously at her brother and her father. 

Alvey shrugged.

Jay said, “He won’t say a goddamn word, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so fucking excited to give a gift.” 

Just then, a car door shut, and a big, black dog came around the corner. Zoey backed up instinctually, but at a closer look at the little hobbling walk it was doing, she crouched down. “You only have three legs,” she said curiously. Its right front leg was missing. The dog went right to her, and she laughed, scratching it behind the ears. “And one eye!” Zoey glanced in the direction her brother had gone. "Hey, Nate!"

Nate came around the corner then.

“Nate! Look at this dog!” she cried. “It just came right up to me.”

He smiled and tucked his hands into his pockets.

Her eyebrows creased. “Wait, I thought you had something.” 

“I do,” he said, nodding toward the dog. 

Her eyes widened. “Nate, whose dog is this?” she asked slowly.

“Yours.” 

“Oh, you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” Alvey groaned, but Zoey was too shocked to pay him any attention.

Her mouth fell open, and then tears quickly filled her eyes. “Are you fucking serious?” she asked, her voice almost inaudible. 

Her chin wobbled dangerously, but he could feel her pure happiness in his chest. God, that felt so good. This kid desperately needed some joy. “Yeah, I’m fucking serious. This is Abigail. I found her at the pound.”

Zoey dissolved into tears and buried her face in the dog’s shoulder. Abigail wagged her tail. 

“She’s pretty old, though; they think she’s eleven or twelve. But they said she’s really sweet and well-behaved. They found her on the street.” 

Jay and Alvey shared a glance.

“And now that she’s old and she doesn’t look normal, no one wanted to adopt her.” 

Zoey pulled back to look at the dog. “I love you,” she said, wiping her cheeks with one hand and stroking the dog’s silky left ear with the other. She couldn’t help but notice that the sleek black coat was peppered with little white hairs that could only have come with age.

Abigail licked her face.

Zoey laughed and then turned to Nate. “She’s perfect,” she told him. “I love her.” She stood up to hug him. “I love you, too. Thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome.” He wrapped his arms around her and lifted her off the ground. 

“A dog, Nate, a dog!” she grinned, bouncing up and down a little as he set her back down. 

He chuckled. “I know. I picked her out a couple of days ago, and I brought her home yesterday.” 

“What?!” Zoey demanded. 

“Yeah, that’s why I was gone last night. I had the fucking dog with me, and I didn’t want to bring her home til I knew you were asleep.” 

When Zoey turned back around, Jay was scratching the top of Abigail’s head. The dog looked as though she were smiling at him. “Nathaniel, what breed is this lovely lady?”

Nate rubbed the back of his own neck. “They said they’re not sure, but that she’s probably a golden retriever black lab mix.”

“Very good, very good,” Jay nodded. “I approve of this.” 

Nate smiled. “I’m glad.” 

Zoey looked to her father, who was staring at Abigail as though she were a bug that should be squashed. “She can’t get up on the furniture,” he declared, “and she _definitely_ can’t go in my room.”

“She won’t, I promise,” Zoey assured him breathlessly. 

“You wanna take her down to the beach?” Nate suggested. “I picked up a couple tennis balls for her.”

Zoey beamed. “Yes!” 

“Alright. Let me get my shoes. Jay, you coming?”

“Nah, man, I promised Ava I’d be back soon.” 

“What?” Zoey asked, surprised. She put on a fake smile as not to let her disappointment show. 

“I’ll be here for dinner.” 

Zoey tried not to pout. “Promise?” she asked.

"Sure, monkey, I promise,” he replied distractedly.

“Take a shower before you come back,” Alvey instructed. "You smell like a fucking brothel."

Jay saluted sarcastically and turned to leave without saying goodbye. 

Zoey caught up to him and kissed his cheek, watching sadly and silently like a little kid as he got in his truck and pulled down the driveway. She was jealous of Ava; he’d been with her constantly. They’d barely seen him all week, and it was Zoey’s birthday. Why couldn’t he stay just today? One day was all she wanted. 

Before Zoey could get too upset, though, Abigail nudged Zoey’s knee with her wet nose. Zoey couldn't help but give her a little smile. “Hi,” she whispered, sitting down next to her and petting her back while they waited for Nate. “I love you so much. Yes I do.” 

They took Nate’s car down to the pier since they still weren’t too sure about Abigail’s walking situation. But her car situation? She loved it. She hung out the back window with her mouth wide open, smelling the air and smiling at the people they passed. Zoey stared at her the entire time, so glad that Nate had freed her from a gloomy life at the pound. In the car with her tongue lolling out, she looked positively radiant.

Nate parallel parked perfectly, and the twins got out, heading down to their favorite dunes.

“She’s so cute, Nate!” Zoey declared as Abigail trotted next to them on the sand. 

“I thought you might think so.”

“How did you pick her? Like, out of all the other ones.” 

Nate shrugged. “Her eyes,” he admitted. “They looked like yours. Sad.”

Zoey was so surprised that she almost stopped walking. “Really?”

He nodded. “Yeah. Some people… they hurt her. Like that guy hurt you. So I knew you’d be good for each other. She needed a friend like you needed a friend.”

“Is that why her leg is gone? And her eye?”

“Yeah.” 

“What happened to her?”

“Um…” They picked a spot away from the crowds and slid off their flip flops. Abigail waited patiently between them as Nate stripped off his shirt and Zoey wiggled out of her jean shorts. “Some asshole took her off the street and put her in a fucking dog fight.”

Zoey gasped softly. 

“The other dog grew up abused and fighting, I guess, so it was really vicious. But Abigail was just a normal dog. After they were done with her, they fucking dumped her on the side of the road and called the pound to come pick her up. She wandered away from where they left her, and they found her crying on the street. Once they got her to calm down, they had to take off her leg, and they couldn’t save her eye.”

Zoey leaned down to hug her again. Abigail's tail wagged faster. “I’m really glad you picked her. She’s special.”

“I know. I couldn’t leave her in the shelter. There were a bunch of small dogs and puppies and stuff like that, but there was just something about her. I knew she was the one for you. And Dad’s allergic to cats, but I didn't think you were much of a cat person anyway, so…” Nate smiled and tossed his sister the tennis ball. Abigail watched it with eager eyes as it changed hands.

“Alright, puppy, you ready?” Zoey asked, holding it out for Abigail to sniff. Once the dog had its scent in her nose, Zoey threw it as far as she could. The big, black dog bounded after it on her three old legs, and Zoey laughed joyfully. “She’s fast!”

“Yeah. I was doing some research this week, and if she’s the kind they think she is, she’s supposed to love running.”

“I hate running,” Zoey replied glumly.

“Yeah, but think about this – you’ve literally got an entire gym full of guys that run every fucking day. I’m sure Ryan would love to take her for a jog sometime. And Jay. Maybe even Dad.” 

“Dad?” she echoed skeptically.

But before Nate could answer, Abigail ran back up with the ball stuffed in her mouth. Zoey couldn’t help but giggle. “Good job, Abby!” she cheered, scratching her dog. Abigail deposited the soggy ball on the sand and stepped away, eagerly wagging her tail as if to say, _again, again!_  

“Okay, you ready?” Zoey repeated. She fired the ball down the beach, and this time, it went even further. Abigail took off again.

“He’ll warm up to her,” Nate said, going back to the question about their father. “Remember Muffin?” 

“The dog from before, right? I’ve heard Jay talk about her a little.”

“Yeah. Mom and Dad got her before Jay was even born. Dad loved that dog more than he wanted to. She died when you were like one, and Dad was kind of upset about it. I remember.” 

Quiet fell as Abigail came back. She galloped happily up to Zoey and waited for her to throw the ball again. Even though the dog couldn't understand English, Zoey felt bad about asking the question on her mind. She waited until the dog was out of earshot to ask, “How long is she supposed to live?”

“Not long, honestly,” Nate confessed. “It could be four years, or it could be one. I don’t know. But she seems pretty okay to me.”

Zoey nodded. “Well, I don’t care. I love her, and I just want her to be happy while she’s here.”

Nate smiled and bumped her shoulder. 

They played fetch for a little while longer, and then Nate darted into the ocean with Abigail on his heels. They splashed into the water together, and Zoey followed them, chasing Nate around and trying to tag him. As soon as she got him, she turned to run so he would chase her, but he picked her up around the waist and threw her into the water.

Abigail barked loudly, bouncing excitedly between the siblings and wagging her tail furiously. She ran to Zoey as soon as she surfaced and licked a big stripe up the side of her face. Zoey shrieked, and Nate cracked up. Yeah, he definitely hadn’t made a mistake in picking this dog.

After a few hours in the summer sun, the siblings and the new dog went back to Alvey’s for lunch, where they had turkey sandwiches and strawberry banana smoothies. Alvey ate with them, and Abigail sat patiently underneath the bar stools, waiting for something to fall from the counter. Nate tossed her some scraps of meat while they were eating, which she devoured, and Zoey set her plate on the floor when she was done so Abigail could eat her crust.

Alvey rolled his eyes but didn’t try to stop them.

The siblings tried to call Jay and invite him to come over and watch a movie with them, but the older boy didn’t pick up his phone. Abigail tried to jump up on the couch; Zoey reluctantly blocked her way and told her that Alvey said no. Abigail didn’t seem bothered. She laid down on the floor between the siblings and took a quiet nap. Zoey was pleased when she didn't snore too loudly. Within the hour, Nate and Zoey were fast asleep as well, tired from the sun and their big lunch.

Dinner was pizza and ice cream cake, which they ate with Jay by Alvey’s pool. 

How dramatically things could change in a year. Last year, Zoey had spent her seventeenth birthday silently at the shelter. Not one person had wished her a good day because she hadn’t told them her birthday was coming, and Zoey had still thought it was July. Time seemed to move so differently there. She didn’t find out until August third that she’d missed her birthday. 

Jay, Nate, and Lisa had held a sort of sad celebration on the first with mini cupcakes from the grocery store. It was quiet and melancholy, and Jay started crying at the table and had to excuse himself so he could go collect himself in his bedroom. 

This year was far more enjoyable for all the Kulinas. 

Still, Nate noticed bright pink track marks on the inside of Jay’s arm. He didn’t mention them. He just let his big brother push him in the pool after dessert, and then he motioned for Zoey to push Jay in, which she did gladly.

At their coaxing, she jumped in after them even though she’d already taken a shower. Nate splashed her with a face full of water, and she retaliated by launching forward and grabbing him by the shoulders, forcing him under the surface and holding his head down until he pinched her. 

Jay swam lazily around the perimeter of the pool as his siblings terrorized each other. Abigail stood by the water, watching over her new family. And Alvey sat in a chair behind Abigail, surveying the entire back yard. It was unreal that these adults were his kids, that his sons had grown into strong, victorious fighters, and that his sweet, missing daughter had returned home.

Abigail wandered over to the oldest Kulina, and before Alvey forgot that he was supposed to hate her, he absently started scratching her behind the ears just as Zoey had done earlier. Alvey felt someone watching him and glanced up to see Nate giving him a soft smile. The patriarch realized what he was doing and put his scowl back on, giving the three-legged, one-eyed dog a gentle push away. “Scram, you little fucking pirate,” he told her, but she just wagged at him and laid down at his feet. 

Zoey smiled to herself as the stars appeared in the sky overhead. A brand new bike just for her, a day spent on the beach with her best friend, Jay and her father getting along, and a dog of her very own?

Best. Birthday. Ever.

 

* * *

 

“It was my birthday on Saturday,” Zoey told Sam when he asked her how her week was. It was Monday and their second week of doing two sessions instead of one.

“Yes, happy birthday! I remember you said that was coming,” Sam smiled. “You're eighteen now?"

"Thank you! And yeah, eighteen," she replied.

"How was it?”

“Good,” she grinned. “Mostly really, really good.”

“That’s great, Zee,” Sam said. “What went well?”

“Um, well, Nate got me a dog.” 

“What?!” he said enthusiastically. She remembered then that he was a dog person. He even said so in his promotional video. “What kind?”

“Well, she’s from the pound, and she’s really old, but I love her so much, oh my god. Um, she’s a black lab golden retriever mix. They think. Nate said the girl at the pound said she’s supposed to be called a goldador, but I think that sounds fucking stupid. It’s like ‘matador,’” she giggled. “Like a bullfighter.”

Sam nodded in agreement. “What’s her name?”

“Abigail. But I call her Abby. Nate’s started calling her Ab. He picked her because he said her eyes were sad like mine.” 

Sam wrinkled his eyebrows in concern. “Why would he say that?”

“About me or Abigail?”

“I don’t know. Both, I guess.”

“Well, I guess he just thinks I look sad a lot, I don’t know. And Abby… some douchebag put her in a dogfight, and she wasn’t even a fighting dog. She was just a stray he found in the street.” Zoey swallowed, trying to keep tears from welling up in her eyes. 

“That upsets you a lot,” Sam noted.

She nodded. “She's so sweet. She didn't deserve that at _all._ She didn’t do anything wrong, and they hurt her.”

He was quiet a moment before he said, “Kind of like what happened with you and Clint Walker.” 

Zoey let out a subconscious shudder. “Yeah, I guess. But Abigail’s just a dog.”

“And you were just a little girl.”

“Not that little.”

“Sixteen is pretty young,” Sam countered, “especially when he was so much older than you.” 

She nodded. “I guess. Can I talk about my birthday some more?” 

“Sure.”

“Okay. Um, also, Jay and my dad got me a bike, which is really cool cause I won’t have to keep stealing Nate’s anymore. They split it, too, which means they had to like, talk about it and cooperate and stuff, so that made me pretty happy. But yeah, me and Nate and Abigail spent the whole day together. He woke me up super early to give me Abigail, and then we went to the beach and played fetch with her. And she even got in the water with us!” She stopped herself. “Wait, did I say she only has three legs?” 

Sam raised his eyebrows. “No?” 

“Yeah! And one eye!”

“My goodness,” he chuckled. 

“I know, but she’s perfect. I love her so much. Yeah, so we took her to the beach, and she can actually run pretty fucking fast, which was really cool. I had low expectations, I guess, since she looked a little different. But she seemed like a normal dog.”

Sam nodded. He made a long note on his clipboard. Zoey ignored him and kept talking. 

“After the beach, we went back to my dad’s and had lunch, and he actually sat with us, which I thought was really nice of him. I know he doesn’t think I’m that interesting, and he definitely wasn’t thrilled that Nate got the dog, but he tried. He made us all strawberry banana smoothies. We haven't had them in ages. And for some reason, they always taste best when he makes them. I don’t know why.”

Sam smiled at that. “I understand. My older brother makes spaghetti, and it’s just from a box and with sauce in a jar, but I swear there’s something about it that’s better when he does it. When I try to make it, it’s never the same, even if I follow the directions he gave me to the letter.” He shook his head fondly. “He says he puts love in the sauce.”

Zoey laughed. “That’s so cute.”

“So what did you do after lunch?”

“We watched a movie. Well, we started to. Nate and I always fall asleep on the couch when we watch movies. So we saw, like, the first half of The Goonies, which is sad because the second half is way better. But anyway, then Jay came over for dinner.” 

Sam looked confused. “Where was he all day?”

“Well, that was the part that wasn’t so good, “ she sighed. “Remember how he won his fight against Ryan?”

“Yes.”

“And he’s going out with that Ava chick, the one whose sister is Alicia that fights at the gym?”

Sam nodded slowly. “That sounds familiar.”

Zoey added a few details to help him remember. “She’s really into drugs. She’s from Miami, and she came here to visit Alicia. That was like two whole weeks ago. No one knows why she’s still here, cause she’s not spending a single minute with her sister. But yeah, she and Jay have been holed up in this fancy hotel room. It’s got to be costing thousands and thousands of dollars by now. Like, what a fucking waste. And Jay was so fucking high yesterday.” She shook her head in disappointment. “He came over for presents in the morning, and then when Nate asked if he wanted to come to the beach with us, he said no cause he was going back to the hotel to see Ava. He said he promised her he’d spend the day with her or some shit.” She dropped her voice and muttered, “As if he isn’t spending every fucking second with her.” 

Her tone went back to normal. “And then when he was with us, it was like he was totally checked out. I mean, yeah, he was high. But he’s high like fifty percent of the time, and I’ve never felt like that around him before. He was like, swimming around the pool and not talking to us, just going around and around and around in big circles. Usually he’s like a little kid and he wants to race and make Nate give him a piggyback ride, and we talk, like, constantly. But not this weekend. It’s been like this since the fight.”

One corner of Sam’s mouth tilted down. “That’s got to be a tough adjustment for you and Nate.” 

She nodded. “I think Nate just thinks it’s annoying and stupid, but I really miss having Jay around.”

There was a bitterness to her voice, though, and Sam noticed it. “Are you worried about Ava getting close to him?”

“No,” she said shortly. 

Sam read her face and asked, “Are you worried about _Jay_ getting close to _her_?”

Zoey sighed, still keeping up the flippant façade. “I don’t know. I guess. A little.”

“That’s completely normal,” Sam told her. “When my brother first met his husband, I was very jealous. We’d always been really close, and I took his relationship very personally. When he started spending more time with his boyfriend, I grew very jealous and possessive. But it turned out Dean – that’s my brother – didn’t even realize that we weren’t hanging out together as much. Sometimes communication can solve some problems really quickly.” 

“Your brother is gay?” she inquired. 

“Yeah,” Sam answered easily, as though she’d asked whether or not he liked the color green. “Would you be comfortable talking with Jay about this?” 

“I mean, I’m comfortable talking to Jay about everything. I just think he already knows we want him home. I practically told him on Saturday.”

“Practically telling isn’t the same as actually telling,” Sam pointed out gently.

Zoey shrugged. “I guess.”

 

* * *

 

 

That afternoon, Nate and Zoey had opted for lounging in the office with their father while he made a bunch of phone calls. They’d finally – finally! – caught up on all the administrative shit, and they were going to go home and play with Abigail, but it was so goddamn hot that they were waiting for the afternoon sun to stop beating down so hard.

Suddenly, the door flung open and a girl about Zoey’s age stalked through. She was bigger than most of the girls at the gym, bigger than Alicia, and dressed like she was going to a heavy metal show. “Alvey?” she demanded. 

Alvey tipped the phone against his ear, looking at her with raised eyebrows. It was all he could do not to laugh. She’d stormed in like she was about to murder him, and yet she looked about eighteen and he’d never laid eyes on her. He held up a finger to her while he finished his call, and she crossed her arms impatiently over his chest. That _did_ pull a chuckle out of the man. He took his time before he hung up and turned his attention to the girl. “Who the fuck are you?” he was about to ask, but she cut him off before he could even open his mouth. 

“My name is Sky Caylor. I want to train here.” 

Alvey leaned back in his chair, drinking in the image of her. Her eyes were winged with thick liner, and her long hair was dyed a dark maroon. “I’ve never seen you before.”

“I’m not from around here,” she explained. 

“Where are you from, then?”

“Albuquerque.” 

Alvey raised his eyebrows. “Okay. Why Navy Street?” 

“Because I’ve seen what you’ve done for Alicia Mendez, and I’ve been following Ryan Wheeler since I was a kid. I want to fight like your son Nate.” 

Alvey smirked and pointed at his son, who was sitting on the couch smiling. 

“Hey,” Nate said.

She nodded at him in acknowledgement, but she wasn’t fazed. “So, can I train here or what?”

He shifted. He was intrigued, but there were still some logistics to work out. “What division?” 

“Featherweight.”

“Bantamweight,” he corrected.

She narrowed her eyes at him, but when he didn’t back down, she put a hand on her hip. “Fine.”

“You got money?” Alvey asked. 

“Yeah.”

He raised his eyebrows. 

“My dad’s dead. I got most of the inheritance.” 

“Oh yeah? Who’s your dad?”

Her tough attitude faltered for a second, but she put it back on full force. “It doesn’t matter,” she spat.

“Why should I want you?” he challenged. “You look like a punk.” He cracked a smile. “Literally.” 

“I’m undefeated. I work harder than anyone I know. I’m not afraid of anything. You put anybody in front of me, guy or girl, and I’ll knock them out.” 

“Well, if you’re so fucking good already, why the hell do you need me to coach you?”

“Because I know I can be better.” When he was silent, she added, “Look me up on YouTube. Sky Caylor.”

Alvey looked over at his son and daughter. “What do you think?”

“I like her,” Zoey answered immediately. “She’s scary.” 

Sky almost smiled, but she concealed her reaction. “I want this. And I _always_ get what I want.” 

Alvey tapped his pen against his desk. “I tell you what. I’ll give you a three day trial period,” he said. “If you don’t perform to my standards or I don’t like you, you’re out. Deal?” 

She nodded firmly. 

“Be here tomorrow at six AM.” 

“Alright.” 

“Alright _sir,_ ” Alvey corrected.

“Alright, sir,” she echoed. She spun on her heel and walked out, slamming the office door behind her. 

All three Kulinas stared after her in amazement. What the fuck? They all wanted to know more.

Zoey finally broke the silence with a chuckle. “Holy shit,” she declared.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You might wanna do a quick read of this chapter of The B Side just so you know what I'm talking about: http://archiveofourown.org/works/6242407/chapters/14808733

“Are you currently experiencing any thoughts of homicide or suicide?”

“No.” 

“What led you to seek counseling?” 

“My dad died, and I'm having… And I'm having a hard time, uh... just controlling myself. I'm, uh... I'm angry.”

“When did your symptoms start, and for how long have you had them?”

“The anger?” Ryan took a slow breath. “I guess I've always had it, but recently, it's, uh... been worse.”

“Have you had any previous psychological or psychiatric treatment?” 

“Um… Mnh-mnh.” 

“Any family history of emotional illness?”

“Not that I know of.”

“Do you drink alcohol or take any illegal drugs?”

He shifted and then admitted, “Yes. Sometimes.”

The woman looked up at him. “To which?”

“Both, but only… only sometimes.” 

“What's your relationship like with your family?”

“None. We don't talk.”

“Describe your friends, your social life. Who do you turn to for emotional support?”

“My teammates and my coach. I have a roommate. I mostly keep my own counsel.” 

“What's the highest level of education that you've completed?” 

“College.”

“And your current profession?”

“I'm a professional fighter.”

“Have you ever been convicted of any crimes?”

“Yes. I, uh… assaulted my father and served time in prison for it.” He expected her to get nervous, but her affect didn’t change one bit. He didn’t know whether to be relieved or wary. He wondered what her days were like.

“How many traffic violations have you had in the last five years?”

“Zero. I'm an excellent driver,” he said, putting on a little smile. Maybe he could make her day better. But she didn’t even look up. 

“What do you hope to achieve through counseling?”

He paused and thought for a moment before confessing, “I don't want to go back to the way I was.”

 

* * *

 

Alvey showed up at the gym at seven thirty and was pleased to see that Sky Caylor, who yes, he had looked up on YouTube, was working with Juan. Nate was upstairs sweating on a stationary bike and observing over the railing as he wrapped up his early morning workout. Alvey waved up at him, and he nodded back.

When Sky noticed Alvey, she yanked her mouth guard out. “Where the hell have you been?” she demanded, immediately walking away from Juan and heading for Alvey. “I’ve been waiting for you all morning!” 

“Fucking cool it with the attitude, your highness,” he snapped.

She lowered her voice but didn’t change her tone. “You told me to be here at six. I was here at five forty-five.” 

“Good,” Alvey said. 

She gave him a confused look.

“I didn’t say _I_ was coming in at six. I _never_ come in at six. It’s too fucking early.” 

“Well, I wasn’t expecting you to just leave me here alone with some _guy_.” 

Alvey took a deep breath before replying. “This is Juan Alvarez. Not just ‘some guy.’ He’s a national champion and one of my top coaches.”

Juan nodded at Alvey in thanks. 

“He’s also one of my friends,” Alvey continued authoritatively. “If you want to stay at this gym, you need to learn to respect the people in it. Nobody here owes you fucking _anything_. They all earned their place, and as far as they’re concerned, you’re just some new girl. Nobody’s heard of you. Nobody gives a shit who you are until you prove yourself, and you won’t get a fucking ounce respect until you give some.” Alvey snorted, shaking his head. “God, my fighters will tear you apart in one fucking second.” 

She was silent, expressionlessly taking the verbal beating. 

“Apologize to Juan,” Alvey demanded.

Sky looked up at the head coach with wide eyes.

“Apologize,” he repeated. 

Sky swallowed and stared at the mat. “I’m sorry,” she muttered. 

“I’m sorry, _Juan,_ ” Alvey corrected.

“I’m sorry, Juan.”

“S’okay,” Juan replied, giving her a tight smile. “But coach is right.”

“You’re goddamn right I am,” Alvey said loudly. “I’m always fucking right. Always right.” He headed for his office.

“Where are you going now?” Sky sassed.

Alvey stopped short and turned around to face her again. It seemed she’d already realized her mistake, because her normally confident posture was drooping.

“Contrary to your apparent belief, this gym does not revolve around your punk ass. I have a lot of work to do and a lot of fighters who have worked hard to deserve my time. If I get to you today, I get to you. If not, we try again tomorrow. Got it?” 

“Yeah,” Sky grumbled. 

Alvey gave her a look. 

She stood up a little straighter. “Yes, coach.”

Satisfied, he turned around and disappeared into his office. Upstairs, Nate shook his head and walked down the steps to the locker room for a shower. Then he was going to head home. He had a date to prepare for.

 

* * *

 

Half an hour later, Zoey entered Nate’s room without knocking and flopped onto his desk chair. Abigail followed happily, her tongue flopping sideways out of her mouth. “Hey, you wanna do something with me today?” Zoey asked. 

“I got plans,” he said, barely looking up from his laptop. 

“Oh, come on,” she pleaded. “We caught up on all the work!”

“There’s always more.”

“Not yet!”

“Well, anyway, I said already – I got lunch plans.”

“No, not later. Now. It’s only like nine.”

He glanced at the clock on his laptop and then over at his sister. “Like what?” 

“I wanna go get a tattoo.”

That had his attention. “Fuck yeah. What are you getting?”

“Saturn. On my wrist.”

Nate nodded. “Cool. Why?”

“Uh, well… It’s special. But also as a reminder that universe is bigger than my problems, you know? And I just like the way it looks.”

“Nice. Let’s go.” 

She smiled as he got up and slid on a pair of tennis shoes.

 

* * *

 

Bluesy rock music blared through the house when Christina walked through the front room. “Good morning, Ava,” she said softly. She watched as the girl walked around and around the room, frazzled, clearly searching for something.

“Good morning. Have you seen my sunglasses?”

Christina let her look a moment more before she said shortly, “They're on your head.” 

Ava reached up with one hand and felt for proof. “Jesus,” she chuckled. 

“Would you like some breakfast?” Christina offered. 

“No, thanks.”

“You sure?”

“Yep.” 

“You've been here four days. I haven't seen you eat a bite of food. Jay, neither.” 

“We eat,” Ava lied. “I - I'm just not hungry.” 

“Good morning,” Jay murmured, his voice still deep from sleep. He’d just come out of the shower and was still wrapped in a towel. 

“Good morning,” Christina replied as Jay kissed her on the cheek.

“So, what are you two doing today?” Christina inquired.

“We're just gonna be here, relaxing by the pool,” Jay said. He tugged his shorts up under the towel and managed to button and zip them without his privacy being violated. That was one of those things he learned in tight apartment spaces. Nate asked him about it once, because it seemed half the time he would do things like that, and the other half he would cook dinner completely naked. But Jay had just shrugged it off and answered, truthfully, that it depended on the day.

“Again?” 

“Yeah.”

She made a face. “I thought you'd be back in the gym by now.”

“Well,” he sighed, “my body's a temple. I'm taking some time off.”

“Alright. Well… I'm going to be volunteering at the needle exchange all day, so I won't be in your way.”

“You're not in the way,” Ava said.

“That's very nice of you to say, Ava,” she sassed. “Thank you.” She tugged on her jacket and subtly cleared her throat. “You guys need anything while I'm out?

“Um, we're... we're good. Thanks, Mom. And I'm gonna clean up the kitchen later, so don't worry about it.” 

“Have a good day.”

“Alright, be careful.” 

“I will.”

“You know, a lot of fucked-up people go to that needle exchange,” he warned.

“I know, Jay. I was one of them.” She slid her purse over her shoulder. “They need help. I'll be fine.”

She disappeared out the door. 

Jay turned to Ava, who held a cigarette out for him. When he took it, she said, “She's a lot of work.”

Jay nodded in agreement.

 

* * *

 

“Let me make sure my guy is here,” Nate said as they approached the door. _Brooklyn Tattoo_ was stamped across the glass in big, white letters.

“I’m sure it’s fine. Anybody can draw a little doodle,” Zoey replied, patting her pocket.

“You brought a picture?”

“Yeah. Aren’t you supposed to?” 

He held the door for her. “I think they like when you do.” 

A blonde guy with two full sleeves was leaning on the counter sipping a cup of Starbucks coffee, a fountain pen tucked behind his ear. “Hey!” he grinned when Nate walked through the door.

Nate couldn’t help but smile back. “Hey, man.” They shook hands over the counter. This must be Nate’s guy. But then, “Is Bucky around today?” 

Steve set down his coffee cup and hollered, “Ay, Buck! Kulina’s back to see you! And he brought a dame!”

“A dame?” came a gruff voice. 

“They’re a little old-fashioned,” Nate murmured to her.

The guy who Zoey figured was Bucky came out from a swinging door behind the counter. He was huge, built like one of Nate’s old GI Joe dolls. (Cough. “Action figures.”) His hair was back in a short brown ponytail, and a few stray strands were left hanging by his cheeks. He was gorgeous.

At the look on Zoey’s face, the blonde laughed. “He’s taken, ma’am,” he noted.

“Shut up, Steve,” Bucky said, pecking his blonde boyfriend on the cheek and then going to embrace Nate. “Didn’t think you’d be back so soon!”

“I didn’t either,” Nate agreed.

“And you must be the missing sister,” Bucky said to Zoey. 

She looked at her shoes. “Yeah.”

But then Bucky was hugging her with his strong arms. “Welcome home,” he said. “Your brother here sure missed you a lot. You see his new ink?” 

“I did, yeah. I was really surprised.”

“I was, too,” Bucky admitted. “He only gets art that has a lot of personal meaning. I was worried at first that you were an ex-partner of his or something, and I didn’t want to put that on him permanently. But once he explained, I did the work for free.” 

“Thank you,” Zoey replied softly. She could see why Nate chose this place to keep coming back to. Jay kind of just went wherever he was close to and trusted that he wouldn’t get any STDs, but of course Nate would find the kindest people he could.

“So!” Bucky said, clapping his hands and rubbing them together. “Enough sappy shit. What can I do for you two?” 

“Actually, Zebra here wants to get a tattoo today.”

“Zebra,” Steve repeated, remembering. “I knew there was something funny you called her.” 

“What kind?”

“Um, like this,” she murmured, pulling a folded up piece of paper from her pocket and handing it to him. She tilted it away from Nate, not wanting him to see.

Bucky unfolded it and saw a drawing of space with a few words and some other questionable art. He chuckled warmly. “Wow.” 

“Just this part,” she said, pointing at the little doodle of Saturn. “If you can shape it like that and everything, that would be great.” 

“Yeah, no problem. Where do you want it?”

She swallowed and held out her left wrist.

“Holy shit,” Bucky breathed.

Steve looked over and saw Zoey’s arm littered with scars, but he was silent. His expression remained neutral. 

“I’m trying to stop,” she said softly.

Bucky nodded.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to do it,” Zoey said quickly. 

“No, I do. I do,” Bucky assured. “Let me get some paper. I’ll do a test, and you can tell me if you like it.”

“Sounds good.”

As soon as Bucky disappeared, Nate moved forward. He gave Zoey a gentle punch on the shoulder and said, “I left my wallet in the car. I’ll be right back.”

“Mmkay.”

The door dinged as Nate made his way out, and Zoey took a seat in one of the worn black chairs along the wall.

“Your big brother really cares about you,” Steve said to Zoey.

She looked up to give him a shy smile. “I know.” 

Steve nodded, really looking at her. “Are you alright?”

She shifted awkwardly. “Yeah.”

“Bucky’s reaction to your arm – he didn’t mean it in a bad way. He’s just… really sensitive to that sort of thing. It’s not the first self harm we’ve seen,” Steve told her, “but we never get used to it.”

She nodded.

Just then, Bucky came back around the corner. He sat down next to Zoey and held out her original paper next to one that was much less crumpled and worn. “Okay, so I can do just the planet like you asked, but I thought it might look cool to put some of the little stars around it, too. What do you think? Either way is fine with me.”

He’d drawn it both ways, and she was amazed at how perfectly he’d made his pen’s strokes match the faded green crayon.

“That would be great,” Zoey responded. “I love the stars.”

“Alright, great. Did you just want to get an estimate, or do you want to get started right now?”

“We can start,” Zoey smiled. “I’m ready if you are.” 

Bucky led the way to a comfortable chair. “So this used to hang on your bedroom door, huh?” he asked, handing her back the original paper. 

“Yeah. Me and Nate shared a room for years. We didn’t have a lot of money, so…” 

“No, I understand,” Bucky replied. “I really, really do. So Nate drew this then?” 

The door chimed with Zoey's brother’s return, and she nodded as she covertly tucked the paper back into her pocket. “It’s kind of a surprise.” 

Bucky grinned conspiratorially. “I see.” 

Nate came back to where they were talking and took a seat next to his sister. “You need me to hold your hand?” he teased. 

“No,” she snapped. 

Bucky chuckled as the needle whirred to life. “You might be surprised.”

Both Nate and Bucky were expecting some sort of a yelp when the instrument made contact with her skin, but all the younger girl did was inhale slowly through her nose. They were both a little bothered when Zoey calmly sat back in the chair with her eyes shut. She almost looked as though she were enjoying the pain.

Nate pulled out his phone, and Bucky tried to focus on his art. They made brief eye contact, but neither man said a word.

 

* * *

 

Ava was lounging in a pool chair smoking pot while Jay did three lines of cocaine a few feet away.

A man with greasy, unkempt curls and an unshaven face wandered in through the fence. Ava was heading to get a soda but stopped short at the sight of him.

“Oh. Uh…” he babbled. 

“Who the fuck are you?” she asked, pulling off her sunglasses.

“Hi. Um… I'm… I'm looking for, uh, Christina?” He tucked his hands awkwardly into his pockets. “Is she…?” 

“Jay?” Ava called over her shoulder, not taking her eyes off the man. She’d met enough creeps to know not to turn her back to them for even a split second.

“Yes ma’am?” he called back.

“Somebody's here to see your mom.” 

“You're here to see my mother?” Jay asked, pointing a steady finger at the guy as he came forward.

“No, I'm sorry,” the man backtracked. “I made a mistake.”

“No, he said he's here to see Christina,” Ava told Jay.

Jay held out his drink and waited for Ava to take it. Then he dropped his voice. “Are you the guy?”

“No.” He started to leave, but Jay went right after him.

“No, no, no – are you the guy who put your hand on my fucking mother?” 

“I don't know, I-” He grunted as Jay slammed him up against the wall. There's no way he could have even seen Jay's fist flying at his face. He collapsed onto the concrete.

“Holy… shit,” Ava murmured, her hand covering her mouth as she took in the violence.

Jay took the cup back, drank a long sip of the icy drink, and said, “I'm gonna need you to spend the day with your sister.” He swallowed and gracefully spat the liquid that didn’t go down his throat onto the unconscious man’s face.

 

* * *

 

_Nate took me to get a tattoo! It’s about time – I’ve wanted one since Jay got his first ink when I was like seven. The pain was intense, but at the same time it felt pretty good. Nate took me to the place he goes to get his tattoos, and the guy that did his did mine too, which I think is cool. It’s Saturn from the picture Nate drew for our bedroom door at the Waters apartment. He hasn’t realized yet, but I know he will. He says it looks “really great” though and he doesn’t just say shit like that, so I’m really happy._   
_I wish Jay had been able to come with us but he’s still with Ava and no one’s even fucking talked to him since my birthday. He hasn’t been at the gym and he won’t answer his phone. I’m starting to get annoyed. And honestly I don’t miss him as much as I used to._   
_I wonder if that’s what happened to my brothers when I left._   
_But anyway, Dad’s at the gym, and Nate says he has plans later, so I guess I’ll be home alone for a while. I’m going to take a really long shower, I think. Or maybe a nap. I could use a nap._   
_I haven’t cut yet today and I’m trying to keep that up. Bucky (That’s the tattoo guy. He's super hot and he has a boyfriend.) got kind of upset when he saw my arm. I don’t want to make anybody else sad the way I made him sad. It didn’t feel good._   
_What does feel good though is every time I come home, Abby comes running up to me with her three legs and she looks at me through her one eye and licks me like I’ve been gone for a year. (Or should I say, ten months.) She’s easily the best present I ever got._   
_She’s been sleeping on the floor with me, and it feels so good to have someone to snuggle with now that Jay’s gone. Abigail is a great snuggler even though her breath smells like dog food._   
_I’ve seen those commercials with the dog that has human teeth. I need to buy some of those things they’re advertising. I think they’re called Greenies or something._   
_But yeah, bad breath and all, I wouldn’t trade her for any other dog. Nate did a fucking great job picking her out._   
_Haha! She has my blanket in her mouth and she’s dragging it around the floor. I guess it really is naptime._   
_Goodnight, journal._   
_(I’m running out of pages.)_

* * *

 

“I admire your beard,” Garo told Ryan. 

Alvey was at his desk, and the fighter and the promoter were in chairs across from him. There was a painfully awkward lull in the small talk, and Ryan and Garo had made accidental eye contact, which spurred the odd compliment.

“Oh,” Ryan replied. “I had to trim it up a little bit.”

“Yeah, looks good.” 

Alvey glanced up at them, watching with his nose slightly wrinkled. 

“Just be careful.” 

“About my beard?” Ryan asked. 

“Yeah. You come to rely on it, you know? Pretty soon, you won't look good without it.”

Alvey snorted. “Maybe you guys should fuck each other.”

“I keep asking, but, you know...” Garo shrugged. “Where's Jay, man? How long do we have to wait?”

Alvey hit send on yet another text to his son. “I don’t know. He's not answering his phone.” 

“Probably pissed about Mario's article,” Garo suggested. “Gonna shit all over his win.” 

“He twisted my words," Ryan defended immediately. "I didn't say it like that. That's not how I said it.”

“Alright, alright, you know what? Let's... Let's... Let's sort Ryan out, and then we'll deal with Jay later,” Alvey decided.

Garo wasted no time. “Guys! I want a rematch.”

“I'm in. I want it,” Ryan said, snapping his gum confidently.

“Hold on, hold on. How much?” Alvey asked. 

“What do you mean, how much?”

“I mean how much are you gonna pay him?”

Garo scoffed. “The same as last time.”

The coach leaned forward. “I want you to do better.”

“Alvey, we had a deal. Six fights. He has four left.”

“A deal?”

“Of course.” 

“You sell fucking rugs with that deal,” Alvey muttered. 

Ryan caught the jab and snorted a laugh. 

“First of all, that's racist, okay? We don't sell rugs. That's not what my people are known for. Guys, with love in my heart, Ryan lost the fight. I'm not gonna give him a raise. If you win the fight, if you knock him out, then I'll give you a nice bonus. I promise.” 

“That's fine. I just want the fight,” Ryan said evenly, not taking his eyes off Alvey.

“Fantastic. You?” 

Alvey fought not to roll his eyes, but he held his hands up in surrender. “Okay. Let's do it.” 

“Ha ha!” Garo shouted triumphantly. “Makes me very happy.” He shook Ryan’s hand. “Always a pleasure, my friend.” Then to Alvey, “Tell me about Jay, I'll set it up.” Then back to Ryan, “In the meantime, my friend, take care of your knee.”

Ryan crashed into one of Alvey’s chairs on his way out.

“Careful,” Garo warned.

Alvey did roll his eyes that time.

Once Ryan was out of the office, Garo asked Alvey another question. “You have a girl named Alicia?”

“Alicia Mendez, I do,” Alvey nodded. 

“I keep hearing her name. Can I take a look?”

Alvey motioned him out the door and into the gym, where Alicia was working out. He noticed Sky still there, off to the side, watching Garo carefully. He wondered if she knew who he was, but more, he was pleased to see that she was still in the gym and still sweaty. She was proving that she wanted it. And as she said, she always gets what she wants. Alvey snorted at the memory.

Garo watched Alicia for a moment and then muttered, “Fuck me.”

“Yeah, well,” Alvey replied, sliding his eyes back to the other female fighter. “She doesn't know what the fuck she's doing yet, but everything's there.” 

“Is she in shape?” 

“Yeah, she's in fucking shape.” He turned to the promoter. “What did you have in mind?” 

“I have a show in Pasadena.”

“I thought that's full.” 

“It is, but I don't like one of the fighters. Her manager cheated on my cousin's daughter, so... I'll bump her. I'll put Alicia in, no problem.”

“Alright. I'll talk to her.” Just then, Alvey’s phone rang. He glanced down at the screen. “Ah, shit. It’s my daughter,” he sighed. “I gotta take this. She only calls when something’s wrong.” He patted Garo’s arm and headed back toward his office. “Hey,” he said into the phone. “You alright?” 

“Yeah. I’m fine. I actually – I wanted to ask you about something.” 

“What’s up?”

“Um… the other day, on my birthday, you were really nice to me. And it got me thinking. When we went to family therapy with you, you said you wished you had a relationship with me.” She paused nervously. “Did you mean that?”

“Yeah,” Alvey replied. He felt vulnerable, but Dr. Kramer said he had to be open when things like this came up. 

“Cause if he’s still willing to do therapy with both of us, I think I want to try it.” 

“Me too,” Alvey admitted, feeling a little lighter. First Garo saying he’ll put Alicia on his card and now this? “I’ll give him a call in a little bit, alright?”

“Okay. Thank you.” He thought she was done speaking, but she quickly added, “Oh. And if it can be not on Monday or Thursday that would be good, cause that’s when I see Sam. I don’t really want to do two sessions on the same day, you know?” 

“Got it,” he replied. “See you at home later?” 

“Yeah, I’ll be there. Bye.”

“Bye, Zo.”

 

* * *

 

“Cheers,” Will smiled, holding up his glass. “Sure you don't want anything?”

“I'm good,” Nate assured quietly.

“You on the wagon or something?” 

“I have a fight coming up.” 

“Oh, yeah? Whereabouts?” 

“Downtown.” 

At Nate’s tense posture, Will gave him a little smile. “Nate, relax. Just two guys having lunch, no big deal. You’re safe.”

It was all Nate could do not to shake his head and get up from the table then. Will was cute as fuck, and there was no denying that his accent was more than sexy, but if Nate got caught? His career would be over. His _life_ would be over. 

“I'm glad you called. To be honest, I didn't think you would.”

“Me neither,” Nate admitted. 

“So why did you?”

“I had some questions.”

Will gently cleared his throat. He nodded, “Go on, then.”

Nate shifted and tucked his hands into the pocket of his sweatshirt. “What did he put in my drink?” 

Will dropped his voice a bit. “Probably Rohypnol. But I wasn't there, so I can't be sure. Bob's life is in compartments... like a terrorist cell.”

“Is this shit funny to you?” Nate snapped. 

“No,” Will replied darkly, shaking his head. “No, not at all, mate. I think it's fucking horrifying. I'm just always amazed at what money and shame can buy you in this town.”

Nate looked away, knowing he’d fallen easily into exactly that kind of trap.

“Excuse me,” Will said, his voice returning to its normal volume as he flagged down the waiter. “One more, please. Thanks.” He turned back to Nate. “Here's the thing with Bob. If you go back at him, he's just gonna give you more money. And you'll take it. And then… then he'll own you." He turned his lips up sadly. "How the fuck do you think I got here?”

Nate’s eyes widened at the weary smile. That had never occurred to him.

 

* * *

 

“Yeah,” Jay muttered, digging through a drawer until he found the Casa Rosa pamphlet. “This is you, right? Jason Ferris, head treatment counselor.”

“Yeah.”

“I paid you a lot of money for services that included group therapy, meditation, acupuncture, and...” He waved a hand. “And it goes on. But...” he sighed. “No. I don't see anything here that includes _rape_ therapy. How about you tell me about that?” 

“Look, I- I understand that you… you may have heard some things…”

“Yeah, I have, but not enough. Now, fucking you up, that was a reflex. And if I've got all this wrong, I apologize in advance. But I'm in a…” He trailed off and took a deep breath. “I'm in a fog of war right now. So how about you telling me exactly what happened with you and my mom? Yeah. Hmm?” 

“I'm gonna tell you everything, okay?” 

Jay plopped onto the floor and grabbed his Capri Sun off the coffee table. He took a long slurp.

“Um... I pretty quickly developed... inappropriate feelings for Christina.”

“My mother,” Jay corrected. “Christina's my mother. That's why I'm asking you about all this.”

“Yes, your mother. Y-Your mother. Um. Uh.” He sighed. “It... It started off as just an emotional connection.” 

“Mm-hmm.”

“Um, but rehab is... It's... Um... There – there's an... There's an outpouring of feelings when the drugs are gone, and it can lead to a... uh, an accelerated... intimacy.”

“'Accelerated intimacy,'” Jay repeated. “Hmm.” He asked bluntly, “Were you fucking my mother?” At Jason’s panicked face, Jay put on a smile. He even let out a little laugh. “It's okay. Answer the question,” he coaxed. “You can answer the question.”

“I wouldn't put it that way, but, um... Yes, we were physical, and it was consensual. But it was a... It was a horrible lapse in judgment for me. It was more a betrayal.”

“When did it start?” 

“Since, like, about a week into her stay.”

“A week into her stay," he echoed, his voice barely more than a whisper.

“I don't know why it happened that night.” 

“A week into her...”

“I was... I mean, I was drunk, and she was... deceptive.”

Immediately, Jay snapped, “How was she deceptive? _How_ was she deceptive?”

“I… I realized that she had no feelings for me at all. That she was just... She was manipulating me.”

“Mm-hmm,” Jay nodded sarcastically.

“And it overwhelmed me. It was overwhelming.” 

“Yeah? Um... why exactly did you come here?”

“I came to apologize. I swear.” 

When Jay didn’t speak, Jason asked nervously, “What are you gonna do to me?”

“I don't know, Jason. I don't know. I don't know.” He laid back on the ground and spoke through a deep stretch. “I don't know. It's just lot of shit for me to process, all this information, so I don't have an answer for you.”

 

* * *

 

“Hey, stranger,” Ryan greeted slyly as he walked up to Alicia outside the gym. “Haven't seen you in a couple nights.”

“Just been trying to stay healthy, you know? I get fucked up, sleep...”

“Ah,” he laughed. “That's funny. That's really funny,” he muttered sarcastically.

“Why is that funny?” she asked defensively.

“Because, um,” he chuckled, “because I came by late last night, and you weren't here.” 

“Yeah, I was staying at Alvey's.” At his expression she rolled her eyes. “Come on, dude, it's not like that. Look, he hasn't even been there the last few nights.” 

“That's fine, yeah. Well, if you needed a place to stay, why don't you stay with me?”

“Cause I don't want to. Look, I feel comfortable there.” 

“Alright. That's it. It's your business.” 

Just then, Ava walked up and Ryan cleared headed into the gym.

“Hi,” Ava murmured. She had a small bouquet of grocery store flowers in her hands. 

“Hi?” Alicia replied, eyebrows raised. Her sister hadn’t done much other than follow Jay around, and she was surprised to finally be getting some attention again. 

“Hey.” Ava thrust the flowers at her. “These are for you.”

Alicia took them slowly. “Why?” she asked.

Ava shrugged. “I don't know. They're pretty. You can put them in the lounge.”

 

* * *

 

“Here,” Christina smiled, handing a paper bag filled with clean needles and cotton balls to a homeless man.

“Thank you,” he mumbled. 

“Be safe,” she said. Then she turned to the next girl in line. “Hi, sweetie. What do you need?”

“Needles and some condoms, please.”

“How's your day going?” Christina asked as she gathered the supplies. 

“Fine.”

Christina looked up at her then and recognized her. “I'm sorry. Is your name Chelsea?”

The girl shifted. “Yeah.”

“I'm Christina. Well, we never met, but I came into Casa Rosa the last week you were there.”

The girl was clearly uncomfortable. “I got to go.”

Christina let her walk a few steps away before she called out and followed her. “Hey, Chelsea?” she asked, quickly making her way to the girl. “Where are you staying?”

“With friends.” 

“Okay. If that falls through or if you need anything… call me.” She scribbled her phone number. “That's my cell. Be safe.” 

Chelsea looked over her shoulder as she walked away.

 

* * *

 

“Hey, Coach.”

“Hey.”

“You got a sec?”

“Why?” Alvey asked, his tone a little harsh.

“What?”

“I've been at this a while. Somebody asks me if I got a second, it usually means we're gonna have a shitty conversation.”

“It doesn't have to be,” Ryan shrugged.

“What's on your mind?” 

“Well, have you given any more thought about what I said?”

“About what?”

“Coaching me, not splitting your time between me and Jay.”

“Oh. Yeah, I have.” 

“Mm-hmm. Well, what do you think?”

Alvey looked him in the eyes and said evenly, “What I think is that you should give me five fucking minutes to figure it out, man. I haven't even _seen_ Jay since the fight.”

“Okay, cause I just need to know if I need to find a new place to train,” Ryan replied emotionlessly.

“Okay. You'll be the first to know.” 

“Okay. Hey, and, Alvey?” 

“Yeah?” 

“You really think it's a good idea to have Alicia staying at your house?” 

“Are you fucking kidding me, dude?” Alvey spat. 

“What?” 

“You know nothing's going on with me and Alicia. Don't fuck with me.”

“I know,” Ryan said, acting innocent. “I'm just saying it doesn't look good.”

“Thank you,” Alvey said sarcastically, shaking his head. 

“You're welcome.” 

Alvey huffed. “Okay.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Ahh,” Will exhaled as he finished his drink. “I'm gonna get another one. As my father used to say, you get one buzz a day, you best keep it going.” Nate must have made a face, because Will added, “Hey, I don't get many days off, alright?”

Nate held out a hand. “Go for it.”

“You don't have to stay.”

“I'm good,” Nate said lightly, tucking his hand back into his sweatshirt pocket. 

“So, tell me, what's the day in the life of a pro MMA fighter?”

“I wake up, train, teach a class maybe, and… deal with whatever's going on at the gym. And do it all over again. Every day.”

“Have I fucked up your routine?” Will teased.

“No, I'll train tonight, so… I like it better when the gym's empty anyway.” 

“I used to do a bit of Muay Thai, actually, back in Manchester. You know, just to keep fit. I liked it.” 

Nate nodded. 

“Love to see you fight sometime.” 

Nate nodded again.

Will sighed. “For fuck's sake, man.”

“What?” 

“It's like talking to a brick wall.” 

Nate snorted a gentle laugh. It definitely wasn't the first time he'd been told that.

“No, I'm serious. Do you ever speak?”

“Yeah, when I have something to say.”

“And does that ever happen?” 

“Right now, I'm just listening,” he answered. 

Will glanced away and then back at Nate. “I like it. It's good to sit with a man who can handle silence. These days, everyone wants to fill the space. It's like, ‘Shut up for two fucking seconds, _please_.’” 

“For example?” Nate prompted, subtly mocking deep thought. 

Will looked at him, confused, until Nate cracked a small smile. 

“Oh, that – that was a joke, was it?”

Nate’s stomach warmed as Will started laughing.

 

* * *

 

“Look, Jay's a good guy,” Alicia was saying.

“And?” Ava asked carelessly. 

“And don't fuck with him.”

“Fuck you. I'm not.”

“Where have you guys been, anyways?” 

“His house.” 

“Doing what?” she inquired.

“Nothing. He's taking some time off. Why is _everyone_ freaking out?” 

“Because! Jay's done a lot of work to get to where he's at, Ava, and he could lose it fast.” 

As usual, Ava completely disregarded Alicia’s words. “I… I really like him. We fit together.”

Alicia glared at her. 

“Hey… I don't want to fight,” Ava muttered. “Please? Can we stop?”

Alicia was still upset, but she gave in anyway. “Yeah, I don't want to fight either.” She sighed quietly. 

“Are you mad at me?” 

“No, I just… I thought you came here to see me.”

“I did.”

“Yeah, well,” Alicia shrugged, “I haven't seen you.”

“Because you're always here, and you don't ever want to go out, and I'm just trying to stay out of your way.” 

Alicia looked down.

Ava slid forward and wrapped her arm around her little sister. “I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings. Hey…” 

Alicia looked up at her.

“I'm sorry.”

“I know. I just wish I would be able to hang out with you while you're here, you know?” 

Alvey popped his head into the lounge where the girls were talking. He nodded at Alicia and then honed in on Ava.

“Hey. You seen Jay?” he asked shortly.

“He's at his house.” 

“Can you tell him to pick up his phone, please?” Alvey asked, shaking his head as he walked away.

 

* * *

 

Jay snorted an oversized line of coke as he popped bullets into his revolver. He glanced up when Christina walked in, but he didn’t speak.

“What are you doing with that?” she asked nervously. 

“We have got a very special guest,” Jay declared as he took Christina by the hand and led her to the sitting room. “Come here. He's right back here.” 

Sitting on the couch was a man, his hands tied behind his back and a pillowcase over his head.

“What the fuck is going on?” she asked frantically. “Who is that?!”

“Jason. He came by to see you,” Jay said, yanking the pillowcase off of him. “Here she is. Why don't you look up at and say hello, huh?” he asked, nudging the man’s chin with the barrel of his gun. “Huh? Hmm?” 

When Jason was silent, Jay pointed the gun right at him. 

“Jay,” Christina hissed. “Jay!”

“Why don't you state. The purpose. Of. Your visit,” he murmured, bumping the gun carelessly into Jason’s jaw and clicking the safety off.

Jason whimpered frantically. 

“Jay,” Christina demanded, her voice level that time.

“Oh, fuck! Fuck! I'm fucking this all up for you, maybe. Maybe – did you not come here to talk? Did you come here to hurt her maybe?"

“No, no! No, no, no!”

“Open your fucking eyes and look at her,” Jay commanded.

“Jay! Jay, stop it!”

“Look at her. What the fuck exactly do you want to say to my mother, hmm? Huh?” He waved his gun in Jason’s face. 

“Jay, stop this now!”

“Did you not come here to talk? Jason, hmm? What exactly is it that you wanted the fuck to say to my mother?” 

“Oh god. Jay, stop this now! Jay, stop it!” Christina shouted. 

Jay rapidly snapped the safety back on and dropped his arm as if none of it had ever happened. 

“Put the gun away now!

Jay looked down the barrel himself. 

“Put the gun away. Please. Please.”

Jay tugged the pillowcase back over Jason’s head and promptly left the room.

 

* * *

 

“Hope that wasn't too painful, me talking _at_ you all day,” Will said. 

“Yeah, I got through it,” Nate lightly teased.

“Good enough. I'll take it,” Will replied. They walked up to a silver sports car that Nate wasn't even sure was legal to drive on the streets. A closer look told him it was a Mercedes Benz GTS. Holy _shit_. “Well, this is my ride for the day,” Will said casually. 

Nate raised his eyebrows.

“What? I might as well use it. It's just sat in his driveway.” Will slung his bag further over his shoulder and laid across the back like a pinup model. “What do you think? Look like an asshole, right?”

“Yep, you do, actually.” 

“Yeah, I know,” Will laughed. “But it's fucking fun to drive.” He stood up and headed back to Nate. The fighter was standing on the curb, making them match heights. 

“Anyway...” Will murmured, staring at Nate’s lips. “Had fun.” 

“Yeah. I did, too.”

“Be nice to do this again sometime.” 

A car engine turned over several feet away, and Nate jumped. 

“Nate, I know you're not out,” Will noted. “Okay? It's fine. Otherwise, we wouldn't be way the fuck out in Studio City.” 

The words bothered Nate a little, but Will was smiling. That much was good.

“Yeah, it's complicated,” Nate muttered. “You know, with my family and what I do.”

“Hey, I had to move all the way to LA to get my head around it. I know where you're at.” 

“Yeah.”

“I just want to see you again. 

“Let me get through this fight, and I'll give you a call.” 

Both Will and Nate rocked forward. For a long moment, they each tried to read the other, but then Nate realized what was happening and backed up. 

Will chuckled. “Good luck,” he said warmly. “Hope you win.” 

Nate did smile then. “Yeah, me too.” He gave a wave as he walked way. “Bye.” 

 

* * *

 

“But I can't.”

“You can. He's not gonna say anything.”

“It's not about him, Mom. It's about me. But he's got to feel real fucking pain.” 

“Shh,” Christina hushed, reaching up to hold Jay’s face in her hands. 

“Hey – Mom, stop,” Jay said, forcefully shoving her hands off of him. 

“Jay. _Jay._ Look at me.” 

He waved his face back and forth, his eyes wide as they bore into hers.

“I know you're high right now,” she said softly. “It's okay. I'm not mad.” 

He fell back into a chair and she followed him into the chair next to his. He sighed heavily, resting his arm on the table and burying his face in the crook of his elbow. 

“Baby?”

“Yeah.” 

“I know you love me. And I know you want to punish him for what he did. But I need you to stop. Because if you do something that will ruin your life, I will never forgive myself.” 

Jay squeezed her hand tightly. 

“Look at what you have,” Christina whispered. “Look how hard you've worked. Look at everything you've done for me. I'm finally healthy because of you.” 

Jay sat up and looked at her then, his drugged-out puppy eyes swimming with tears.

“We've come so far, I can hardly even believe it.” 

He nodded. 

“Do you love me?” 

“Yeah,” he said, clearly upset that she felt the need to ask that. He started stroking his thumb against the soft skin of her wrist.

“Then let him go. He's nothing. He's not worth our time. Let's look forward, okay? All I care about is looking forward. We're finally good.” 

Christina let quiet settle over the room. She kept a hold of her son with one arm and carefully slid the gun away from him with her other. But before she could move the weapon even three inches, Jay’s hand slammed down on top of hers.

He said firmly, “We need to hear what he has to say.”

 

* * *

 

Abigail and Zoey laid on the floor together under Zoey’s soft, orange blanket. They each breathed quietly, in and out, in and out, and rested comfortably with the new warmth of their companion.

Zoey dreamt of being young again and getting hot fudge sundaes with her brothers. Jay placed her up on his shoulders and held Nate’s hand, swinging his arm forward and back as they headed down to the ocean. 

Jay would hold her up high and dip her in just enough to get her toes wet before yanking her back up over his head. She laughed wildly and freely, squealing with delight. 

Nate swam a few feet away with a pair of clear goggles, trying to catch one of the little silver fish in his hands. They darted this way and that, and Nate followed them. Zoey wanted to swim like her big brother could.

“Not yet, Little Zee,” Jay would tell her. “Someday.”

And then he started to say, “Soon.”

Now, Zoey could swim even faster than Nate could. And they could both catch the little silver fish in their hands.

 

* * *

 

“Well... here we are. This is not the day that any of us expected. I'll be honest. I am bushed. This is not the place I want to be. But here we are. Jason,” he whispered, crouching down. “Why are you here?”

“I came to apologize to your mother.”

“Good. Okay, well, then why don't we do that? Now, on your fucking knees,” he directed, grabbing Jason by the collar and forcing him onto the floor. “Okay. And – and – and do it properly, hmm?” 

Jason looked up at Christina reverently but didn’t speak. Christina shot a worried glance at Jay.

“Say you're sorry,” Jay said shortly.

“I… I can't imagine the ways in which, um… you've been mistreated,” Jason mumbled. 

“Yes, you can. I told you all about it when I was under your care.”

“I know. I meant that... I'm not like these other men that took advantage of you. I fell in love with you. You have... such a pure heart. And there's such a wound. And I wanted to heal you. I wanted to show you how incredible you are. God, you are so pretty.”

Jay bristled, his fingers twitching around the trigger of the revolver. 

“And smart. And there is no excuse for what I did. But... my feelings for you just... exploded. And I acted out. And that was so bad. I'm so sorry. I am so sorry. I'm so sorry.” 

“You're right, Jason,” Christina said smoothly. “You're not like all those other men. You're worse.” 

Jason’s mouth fell slightly open in shock and sorrow.

Jay let a few seconds pass before he went up to Christina. “Um, you want me to hit him? Or do you want to hit him?” When she didn’t respond, he asked, “You want me to hit him, Mom?” 

“No. Get him out of our house.”

Christina headed to her bedroom, and Jay grudgingly undid the ties around Jason’s wrists. He was sure to dig the rope into Jason's skin so he would have a mechanical burn, though. He slammed the gate loudly behind himself as they headed to the car, making Jason jump.

The ex-therapist started to get into his car, but Jay kicked the door shut before he could. With an aggressive finger in the older man’s face, Jay said firmly, “You know, sometimes my life feels like shit, and I just want to blow the whole fucking thing up. And I don't know what to do about it.” He dropped his voice to a whisper. “Don't bother my family again.” 

“I won't,” Jason stuttered.

“Promise,” Jay whispered.

“I swear to God.” 

“Promise,” he said again.

“I swear to God. I swear to God.”

Jay opened the car door for him and leered in the window, staring him down while he hurriedly buckled his seatbelt and put the car in drive. As the car started moving, Jay spat onto the glass. 

As soon as the car was out of view, Jay dropped to the pavement, feeling so many emotions that he could hardly stand it. The gun was still in his grip, and he had half a mind to go after the guy. But Christina had said no. 

God, this didn’t feel like fucking revenge. In some ways, it felt like a waste of time. But Jay was no good to Nate and Zoey behind bars. 

Then again, he was barely any good to Nate and Zoey as he was now. Besides the night of her birthday, he hadn’t seen his kid sister in nearly two weeks. And Nate was probably pissed at him for not being around the gym and leaving him hanging.  
  
He shook the thoughts of his siblings away. Jay was glad he could be there for Christina today, but he was exhausted.

If they caught the guy that raped Zoey, he was going to torture the life out of him, and just before the guy started begging for death, Jay would put a goddamn bullet in his head. 

“This has to stop,” Christina said when Jay came back in the house. 

“He… He tried to rape you.”

“No, I'm talking about you. I cannot be around you if you're gonna get high. I'm not strong enough. And I don't like Ava. I don't think she's good for you. I'm sorry, but that's the way I feel.” 

“It’s fine, Mom,” he murmured. It’s not like he didn’t know that she was right about everything. “It’s fine.” 

“Sweetie, I don't know what to do,” she confessed. “Maybe I need to leave.”

“And live alone?” he asked. He was never going to let that happen.

“I've done it before.” 

“What would have happened if he found you? Hmm? No. You should stay here with Nate, and I'll go.” 

“No, I don't want you to go.”

“It's okay,” he placated.

“I don’t want you to leave. I want you to stop getting fucked up!” she yelled.

“I'll be fine. I will, just not right now. It's okay. You know, it's fine.” 

“Jay!”

“I just need a break, Mom. That's what I need. And then I'll be back." He kissed her cheek and headed for the door. "So... you just tell Nate and Zee that I'll be home soon, okay?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to design Zoey's tattoo or you have any fanart you would like to send, you can submit them at jxnas.tumblr.com/submit :)
> 
> Also, if you like Jonas Brothers slash (or you just want to make fun of me for being weird and gross), check out my author page. There's a new joick fick up called Feathers.


	5. Chapter 5

“Since this is our first session,” Dr. Kramer said, “I’m going to start off with an exercise that usually winds up being a favorite. I have a beach ball here, and as you can see, it has several questions written on it. You two will toss the ball back and forth, and whichever question your right thumb lands on, you read out loud. No switching questions – that’s cheating. After you read it, you answer it, and then the other person answers. Then you toss them the ball, and they read a question, and so on. Got it?” 

“Yep,” Alvey said. From where he was sitting, he could see questions like, “What is your favorite cereal?” and “If you could have any superpower, what would it be?” but also things like, “What is your saddest memory?” Alvey hoped his thumb wouldn’t land on that one.

Dr. Kramer tossed the ball to Zoey, and the therapy game began.

“If you could hug one person right now, who would it be?” Zoey read. She glanced up at the therapist and then over at her father. She thought of Lisa, but she wasn’t comfortable bringing that name up. “Probably Jay. I feel like I haven’t seen him in forever.”

“Alvey, what about you?” Dr. Kramer asked. 

Alvey shifted. “My mother,” he admitted. 

Zoey looked surprised. She thought he was going to say Lisa.

“Why?” Dr. Kramer prompted. 

Alvey shrugged. “Eh, I miss her. I haven't seen her in a long time.” 

Dr. Kramer nodded and motioned for Zoey to toss the beach ball to her father. “Favorite ice cream flavor,” he answered. “Rocky road,” he grinned. 

“Me too!” Zoey exclaimed, looking even more surprised than before. 

Alvey raised his eyebrows and gave her a smile. “Nice.”

Zoey blushed happily and hid her face in her wavy hair.

Dr. Kramer smiled and jotted something down on his clipboard. Both Zoey and Alvey were used to this, and they ignored it.

“Okay, your turn,” he said, tossing her the ball.

“What does ‘love’ mean to you?” she asked. She tapped her fingers against the sides of the ball. “I guess when you care about how somebody feels more than how you feel. And you want them to be happy and you like to spend time with them.” 

“Do you feel that with your dad?” Dr. Kramer asked. 

Zoey ducked her head and shook it. “No,” she admitted softly. “Either way.” 

“Either way like, you don’t feel it and you don’t think he feels it either?”

“Right.”

Dr. Kramer nodded. “That’s perfectly valid, Zoey.” 

“I know,” she muttered. 

“Dad,” Dr. Kramer said, pointing to Alvey. “What’s your answer? What do you think love is?” 

“Oh god,” he replied awkwardly, scratching at the back of his neck. “What she said was fine.” 

“No, I want to hear it in your words.”

He blew out a breath. “Alright, um. Okay, well, I guess love is when you… when you…” He shook his head, clearly uncomfortable. “Fuck.” 

“It’s okay,” Dr. Kramer encouraged, “take your time.”

Zoey’s eyes were still cast on the floor. This was a mistake. She shouldn’t have come here, and she certainly shouldn’t have asked for this. She was so embarrassed. 

“When you care about someone so much that it’s more than just that they’re your friend,” he finally finished. “Romantically or in your family.” 

A few seconds passed, but Zoey didn’t toss Alvey the ball. Both men looked over at her. 

“Can I say something?” Zoey asked. 

“Sure, Zoey,” the therapist responded. 

“I think… at least, in our family – like, me and Nate and Jay… that love is more about what you _do_ , not just how you feel. That’s part of the…” She waved her hand in front of her, searching for the word. “Disconnect, I guess.” 

“A wonderful observation,” Dr. Kramer praised, scribbling on his clipboard again. “So even though by your dad’s definition you two might love each other, by yours maybe you don’t.” 

“Yeah.”

She wanted to look up to see his reaction, but she was too afraid.

“That was very brave, Zoey,” Dr. Kramer added. “Thank you for sharing. Details like that always help.”

Zoey nodded and passed the beach ball to her father without looking. 

“What’s the last movie you saw?” Alvey asked, thankful that his thumb landed on one of the easier questions. “I caught Forrest Gump on TV the other night.” 

“Me and Nate just watched The Princess Bride,” Zoey said.

“They’re always watching movies on my couch,” Alvey noted to his therapist. 

Zoey shrugged. “We like movies a lot. And we like the same kinds so it’s easy.”

“What kinds of movies? Comedies?”

“Um, yeah I guess. Mostly 80s movies. And Harry Potter.” 

“Alvey do you like 80s movies?” 

“Yeah, sort of,” he shrugged. 

“Maybe you can watch with them sometime.”

“Yeah, maybe I will,” Alvey muttered. He had no intention of actually doing so, though.

Zoey caught the ball, and she read, “Who do you see as your role model? Nate. Sometimes Jay, but usually Nate.” 

Alvey smiled at that. “Nate’s a great kid.”

Zoey’s face fell a little. “Yeah.” 

“What was that?” Dr. Kramer inquired, not unkindly.

“Nothing,” she replied at the same time Alvey asked, “What was what?” 

“Nate is your role model,” Dr. Kramer repeated, walking back through what had happened. 

“They’re all close,” Alvey supplied. “What’s wrong with that?” 

“It’s nothing,” Zoey repeated in a low murmur. She wanted to leave. Oh god, she wanted to leave. She wished the ground would open up and swallow her whole. She can't believe she thought this was a good idea.

Dr. Kramer looked at her again, and she could tell that he’d figured it out. It was Alvey, always praising Nate and never praising anyone else. It hurt Jay and Zoey so badly, even when he was saying something so simple. It felt like whenever Alvey said something good about the middle child, he was indirectly scolding the other two and putting them down, even when he wasn’t. Zoey was just so used to it. She didn’t feel like she could ever outgrow that.

“Alvey, who is your role model?” Dr. Kramer asked. 

“Uh. Well, I got different ones for different things, too. Like Mike Tyson. And Greg Jackson. And my mother. And my son.”

“For what?” Zoey asked, looking at him then. She expected him to say keeping his cool or fighting or something like that.

“For raising you kids so well. And being so brave. Stupidly brave sometimes, but…” 

“Wait, _Jay_?” she clarified. 

“Yeah.” 

She sat back against the sofa, feeling the urge to cry. She drummed her fingers against her knee and tried to sit with her emotions. She took a quiet, deep breath. 

“This seems like a lot for you, Zoey,” Dr. Kramer said as he read her face. 

She roughly wiped her nose on the back of her hand even though she wasn’t crying. “Yeah,” she admitted. “It’s harder than I thought.” 

“Why?”

Zoey looked away.

“What made you upset?” 

Her eyes snapped to her father. “You can’t just think nice things about Jay and never tell him. He’s so upset because of you, and if you would just fucking say the good stuff you see in him, he would be so much happier.”

Alvey rested his chin in his hand on the arm of the sofa but remained silent. 

Zoey scoffed and turned her gaze away again.

“Let’s talk about that,” Dr. Kramer prompted. “Alvey, how does that make you feel?”

“I don’t know,” he replied sullenly. 

“Yes, you do,” the therapist pressed. 

“I guess it makes me feel frustrated.” 

“Why?”

“Because I already know I failed.” He turned to his daughter. “Okay, Zoey? I know I failed you kids, especially Jay. And all you and Nate ever want me to do is turn it around.” 

“Do you feel set in your ways?” Dr. Kramer asked.

Alvey nodded. 

“Then why did you agree to come today? We’re doing these sessions so you can build a relationship with your daughter, and that means changing your behavior. Therapy in general is all about changing your behavior.” 

Alvey averted his eyes. 

“He’s too fucking proud,” Zoey accused. She let the beach ball fall to the floor as she stood up from the sofa. “He won’t change because he thinks he’s so fucking perfect. He doesn’t care about me or my brothers. I know that, but I keep hoping he can change. He won’t.” She started for the door, but she paused when she heard the therapist’s quiet voice.

“Alvey, look at your daughter. Look how much pain she’s in. Look how much she loves you, how badly she wants you to love her.” 

“I do love her,” Alvey sighed. He was getting tired of repeating the same message. 

“I know you do. But in her reality, you don’t. We’re here to help you two find a way to communicate with each other, verbally but emotionally as well. As you can both see, this won’t be easy. You’re going to hear and feel things you won’t like. We’re going to talk about difficult things. You’re going to have to open up, and you’re going to have to do it in front of each other, which I know will prove to be a challenge especially for you, Dad. But I promise both of you right now that it will be worth it. Not easy. But worth it.” 

Zoey turned back to her father and met his eyes for the first time all session. He was watching her tiredly, like whatever she decided would be final. That wasn’t enough for Zoey. She wanted him to want this, too.

“I’m sorry,” she said to Dr Kramer, “but this was a mistake. He’ll never give a fuck about me.”

She shut the door behind herself and walked as calmly as she could to the restrooms. Thank god no one else was in there. She locked herself in the big stall and dialed Nate. 

He picked up, already knowing how she felt. 

“Hey,” she greeted through watery eyes. “I know you’re busy, but can you just stay on the phone?” 

“Yeah,” he murmured. “I’m just sitting in the office staring at the same fucking spreadsheet.”

“Okay,” Zoey replied, forcing a wet laugh. She leaned against the wall and let her tears burn in her eyes. Damn her for getting her stupid hopes up. As if her dad would ever want her; she was an accident, and she hated herself for forgetting that. He just didn’t have the nerve to tell her that he didn’t give a damn.

A few minutes later, someone came in. Zoey stifled her sniffling sounds, but they echoed through the tile bathroom. The stranger must have understood the sound of crying, because they exited. Zoey thanked god for someone respecting her privacy, but not a moment later, one of the female therapists made her way to the door of the stall. “Are you alright?” she asked. 

“Yeah, I’m so sorry,” Zoey replied, wiping quickly at her eyes. “I’m leaving.”

“Can you come out here a moment? I just want to make sure you’re alright.”

Zoey wordlessly hung up on Nate, tucked her phone into the pocket of her jean shorts, and unlocked the stall. 

“Oh, were you just with Dr. Kramer?” the woman asked.

Zoey didn’t recognize the therapist, but clearly the woman recognized her.

“I’m Dr. Taylor. I’m in the office just across the hall – I saw you go in. With your father, maybe?”

Zoey nodded.

“Is that what’s wrong? The session didn’t go so well?”

Zoey shrugged and tried to fight the second round of tears tears that were welling up in her eyes. “It started out okay,” she shrugged.

“Therapy is tough,” Dr. Taylor said, “especially when it involves your family. Parents can be hard to deal with sometimes.” 

“Yeah,” Zoey snorted. 

“Sweetheart, may I ask why you left?” 

She shook her head tiredly. 

Just then, there was a knock on the door. “Zo? You in there, kiddo?” 

Dr. Taylor smiled at her. “I’d get that if I were you.” 

Zoey went up to the door and cracked it open.

“Hey. I’m sorry,” Alvey apologized, quiet and sincere. He was speaking in a way that made her flash back to a memory of being curled up in his lap. She was in fresh pajamas, still wet from her bath while he read her a bedtime story. Whoa. She didn’t know he’d ever read to her.

“You were right about all of that. It’s just… it’s fucking hard for me to hear, that’s all. I’m gonna try, I fucking swear. I know you want this, and I’m gonna try.” 

“I don’t want it if you don’t.” 

“I _do_ ,” he insisted immediately. “You’re my kid. Of course I want this.”

She was quiet. 

“Please, Zoey. Can we try again?”

He did say _we._ That had to mean something.

Zoey turned around to look at Dr. Taylor, who gave her an encouraging smile and a thumbs-up. God, as much as they helped, she hated therapists sometimes. They could be so cheesy.

She sighed and looked back at her father. “You really fucking mean it?”

“I really fucking mean it. Now come out of there. We’re wasting time.”

She followed him back to the office, and Dr. Kramer nodded at her. “Glad your dad caught you in time.” 

She sat back down in her spot at the corner of the sofa.

“Let’s talk about what just happened,” the therapist prompted. “Is this something that happens a lot?”

“No,” Zoey answered, “although I think this is the longest we’ve actually fucking talked to each other in seriously my entire fucking life. So… maybe. That’s what happens with Jay, though.”

Alvey nodded in confirmation.

“What was it that made you leave? I heard what you said, but I noticed you were looking closely at your father’s face. What was it that made you decide to walk out?” He added, “Not that there’s anything wrong with that. Sometimes the best thing we can do is diffuse a toxic situation by leaving and cooling off before we confront the problem again.” 

“He looked bored. I could tell he didn’t care one way or another what I did.” 

“When we were in the hall,” Alvey chimed in, “she said, ‘I don’t want this if you don’t.’”

“So it’s important to you that your father is invested,” Dr. Kramer reiterated.

Zoey nodded. 

“Well, I’d say that’s fair. Alvey? Thoughts?”

“No, I… I agree.”

“Okay. We still have plenty of time, so,” the therapist said, standing and going to a cabinet that Zoey had barely noticed before, “I’m going to give you each a piece of paper, and I want you to write down ways that you personally interpret love and ways that the other person shows love. Two separate lists.” 

Zoey and Alvey both looked a little confused.

“For example,” Dr. Kramer explained as he handed them each a blank white sheet. “Zoey, what’s something you understand as a representation of when someone loves you?” 

“Um, like a hug?”

“Great. A hug. So put that on the left column. Things that you interpret as showing love go there. And then on the right, what’s a way your dad shows love?”

“Well, he just came and got me to come back to your office,” she responded, sounding a little hesitant. “He didn’t have to do that. I guess that means he cares?” 

“Great, Zoey, that’s a great example. And I know you may feel confused about it, and that’s normal. That’s why we’re doing this exercise. I’ll give you guys some time, alright?”

The only sounds in the room were pencils scratching against paper and the ticking of the clock. Seven minutes later, the therapist called time and asked Alvey to read his list.

“Alright. On the left, I wrote that ways people show love are: when they spend money on you, when they want to spend time together, when they cook for you, when they help you with work, and when they bring you presents.” 

“Good. And what are ways that your daughter shows love?”

“I kinda went off how she is with her brothers more than with me. Is that alright?” 

“Yes, that’s perfect.”

“Oh, good,” Zoey exhaled. “I did the same thing.”

Alvey said, “For Zo, I wrote: hugs, spending time, teasing, and sleeping.”

“Sleeping?” Dr. Kramer asked. 

Zoey laughed a little. “Well, you’re not wrong,” she smiled.

“She sleeps next to people she loves,” Alvey explained. “Even when she was three, every fucking night, Jay would put her to bed in her room, and in the morning she’d be asleep next to him or Nate. She got older and nothing changed. She’s even slept next to Lisa.” 

Zoey felt a pang of sadness at the mention of her. It was the first time Alvey had brought her up since he told them about the baby the week before.

“But not you?” 

“No, never me.”

Dr. Kramer nodded and jotted something in his notes. “Zoey, what about your lists?”

“On the first one, I have: hugging, saying ‘I love you,’ eating meals together, comforting each other, doing fun things together, keeping each other in check, saying nice things, holding hands, snuggling, and being able to be yourself with each other. And on the second one, I have that my dad spends money on us sometimes, like he gives big birthday presents or he’ll pay for something expensive for school or something. He sometimes comes to talk to me when I’m upset. Not a lot but… sometimes. And he makes fun of Nate. That’s like the most real thing I’ve seen.”

“Well, all the things both of you mentioned are real ways of showing love, Zoey. Have either of you ever heard of love languages?”

Both Zoey and Alvey shook their heads.

“There’s a book called The Five Love Languages.” At Alvey’s expression, Dr. Kramer smiled. “Don’t worry; I’m not going to ask you to read it. The book details the results of the research about why so many marriages fail. The couples misunderstood each other’s love languages.” He ticked them off on his fingers. “Words of affirmation, quality time, receiving gifts, acts of service, and physical touch. Alvey, the things you interpret as love fall under the giving gifts and acts of service category. You mentioned people cooking for you? Zoey, you wrote something similar but framed it a different way. You listed ‘eating meals together.’ So you see the conversation at the table and the time spent together as more important than who did the cooking. But to Dad, it’s really important who cooked because it means that they’re doing something nice for him.”

He continued, “I’m going to take a guess and say, Zoey, that the reason you see your Dad’s teasing of Nate to be the ‘most real’ way of expressing love is that it overlaps with your own expressions of love.”

“Oh,” Zoey murmured.

“Is this making sense?” Dr. Kramer asked them both. 

“Yeah,” they both answered.

“In time, hopefully, you two will be able to recognize these things in each other.” 

They went back to playing with the beach ball and continued for the rest of the session. At the end, Dr. Kramer gave them some homework. 

“I have a little assignment I do when new families come in for therapy. I want you two to each write a letter to the other. It can be about anything, good or bad, but I want you to be expressing how you feel about the other person. Things that are going right between the two of you, things that are going wrong, things you’d like to see change… whatever it is that you feel you want to write about. It can be as long or as short as you want. We’ll read them next week. Okay?” 

Both Kulinas nodded.

It was quiet in the car until Alvey broke the silence and said, “I’m glad you came back in.”

Zoey nodded. “I’m glad you’re glad.” 

He gave her a little smile and then turned on news radio. They were silent the rest of the way home.

Zoey had barely sat down on her bed when Nate knocked on the doorframe with Abigail at his heels. 

“Hey,” he said before Zoey could speak.

“I'm okay," she promised, glancing up at him. Abigail rushed forward and jumped up on the bed, finding a spot up near Zoey’s pillows. Zoey scratched the top of her head, and Abigail closed her eyes happily.

“Where did you call me from earlier?” Nate asked.

She huffed. “I don’t think you’d believe me if I told you,” she said, shaking her head. 

He came over and sat on the bed with her. “Where?” he pressed.

“Um. Therapy with Dad.”

“At the place we went to?” 

“Yeah.” 

He crinkled his eyebrows. “Did he ask you to?”

“No. I actually asked him.” 

Nate looked even more surprised. “Why?” 

She shrugged and drew her knees to her chest. “I don’t know. I was serious last year when I said I wanted a Dad. And I’m kind of used to therapy now, so I figured it wouldn’t be that bad.” She shook her head. “I was wrong.” 

“What happened?”

“He just… he didn’t care as much as I wanted him to. Like, he didn’t want to try. And that felt really shitty.”

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled. At least Nate was always sincere.

“Sorry I hung up on you,” she noted. “I was in the bathroom, and one of the other therapists came in to try to talk to me. Then Dad came and knocked on the door, and I wound up going back in with him. We finished the session. And now Dr. Kramer is making me write Dad a letter, I guess. I have to read it to him next week.”

“Does Dad have to write you one, too?” Nate asked, lying back on the bed. He stared up at the glow in the dark stars on her ceiling.

“Yeah. I don’t know if he’s really going to, though.” 

“Ah, I bet he will. It’s not like he fucking has anything else to do now that I do all the work,” Nate snorted. 

“Well, actually… I think he’s seeing someone,” Zoey admitted. 

That caught Nate’s attention. 

“Yeah. We were in the car, and his phone lit up with a text and it said ‘Roxanne.’ Like the song.”

“You think it’s like, a prostitute?”

“I don’t think so,” Zoey replied, shaking her head. “She was asking if he wanted to go over to her house for dinner.”

“Weird.” 

“Well, it gets fucking weirder. There was a sushi emoji next to her name.”

“What?” Nate asked incredulously.

Zoey chuckled and nudged him with her toes. “I know. I’m pretty sure Dad’s not the emoji type. I don’t know why he even has the keyboard.” 

“Maybe Lisa put it on there,” Nate suggested.

At the mention of her name, the two fell quiet. The room was heavy with discomfort. Zoey could hear her brother’s gentle breath over Abigail’s small snores.

“Do you think they had a name picked out?” Nate asked.

Zoey looked away. “I don’t know.”

“I don’t think either of them would have named him after their fucking dads,” Nate joked, smiling a little. 

Zoey nodded. She scratched absently at her ankle. 

“Sorry for bringing it up,” Nate apologized, sensing her discomfort. “I just-” 

“No, it’s okay. Don’t be sorry. It’s kind of… nice to not ignore it, I guess. Like, it’s not fucking fun to talk about, but. This is good.” 

“Did you tell Sam about it?” Nate asked. 

“No, cause I knew he’d keep asking me about it. I just never brought it up. Did you talk about it with Jay?” 

“Once,” Nate nodded. “You?” 

Zoey looked over at him. “No. What did he say?”

“That it was really fucking sad. And that maybe it was okay because she and Dad didn’t want the baby.”

“I get that,” Zoey nodded, “but I think no matter what Lisa wanted or didn’t want, she’s going to feel like it was somehow her fucking fault. And also, a baby died, which is fucking horrible. So…” 

Nate nodded. “Yeah.”

“God, I was so fucking excited,” Zoey admitted, letting go of her knees and falling back onto the bed facing opposite her brother. “I was so ready to be a big sister. And I love kids, you know, especially since I got to be at the shelter and be around them all the time. I was the oldest one there.” She dropped a hand over her eyes. “I miss them so much. I hope they’re doing okay. But yeah, I really wanted to pick out baby clothes and babysit and teach him words and how to walk and…” She trailed off, choking up a little. “I just wanted to hold him, you know?” 

Nate stared sadly at the carpet.

“I know it’s stupid, because he wasn’t even a person yet, not really. But I was so ready to meet him.” She swallowed thickly and confessed, “I wanted him to look like me.” 

“There’s, uh,” Nate murmured, “there’s [this song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Npp7ZFOgpyM) that helped me think about it. I’ll send it to you.”

“Thanks,” she replied softly. She sighed and sat up. “I’m gonna go get a snack. You want anything?” she asked. 

“Nah, I just ate.”

“Okay. I’ll be back.” As she walked down the stairs, she froze. She stood perfectly still, silently waiting, watching carefully out the door. She crouched quietly down, careful not to let the stair creak as she moved. She wanted to call for Nate, but after several encounters with the one she thought she saw, she knew better. 

She crept down the last of the steps, took a Post-It note from the cabinet over the stove, and scribbled a message. She stuck it to the center of the microwave so it wouldn’t be missed and slipped out the sliding glass door.

 

* * *

 

Nearly ten minutes went by before Nate got bored with his phone and realized that his sister hadn’t come back. He’d already pulled up Netflix on the laptop so they could watch something while she ate, but he hadn’t heard a peep the entire time she was gone. 

“Zebra?” he called out.

Silence.

He got up and started down the stairs. As he was walking, he noticed a bright green Post-It stuck crookedly on the middle of the microwave door. He could tell it had Zoey’s large, sloppy handwriting on it, but he couldn’t read what it said. He jumped the last two steps and walked up to it.

_Saw the guy outside. Going out there, want to talk to him.  
I’ll be fine. _

“Fuck,” Nate hissed. He didn’t bother to put on shoes as he flung the glass door open and stepped out of it. “Zoey?” he asked. He looked through the yard and then jogged down the driveway. “Zoey!”

Nate headed toward the ocean. What if the guy had thrown her in his car? What if his friends were there with him waiting for her, and they dragged her somewhere to attack her? Fucking hell, he was _not_ going to let her get hurt right under his nose again. 

Just then, Zoey came running up from the other direction. She laughed breathlessly when she saw her brother. Her cheeks were tinged with blush, but she looked happy. “Nate!” she cried. 

Nate dropped his shoulders in relief. Then almost immediately, he got angry. “Zebra, what the fuck were you thinking?” he demanded, his frustration plainly evident.

“I kicked him in the fucking balls!” she yelled to him gleefully as she ran.

Nate was so surprised he let out a snort of laughter. 

“I saw him peeking in the window, and I was scared, but then I thought, fuck it! So I went out there and I yelled at him to leave us the hell alone, and then he started trying to grab me, but I got away, and I kicked him in the balls! Twice!” She skipped a little as she caught up to him.

“You’re fucking insane," he told her.

“I know. But I don’t think he’ll bother me anymore.” She went right past him and up the driveway. 

He trailed behind her, shaking his head, as she went through the sliding door.

She headed straight for the kitchen and asked airily, “Hey, do we have any more beer?”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. **before you start reading** , please image search "cafe 50s lincoln boulevard" so you know what sky is reacting to. they ARE closed indefinitely, but we're still in 2015 in the story, so it's good. but it's sweet - people are taping notes to the door leaving messages about how they miss the diner.  
> (95% of the streets, buildings, restaurants, etc. i mention in this fic are real. the hospitals are real, the schools, the free clinic, the street names, the restaurants they go to... it's all there. google maps is a bookmark on my desktop, and it thinks i live in los angeles.)
> 
> 2\. they aren't actually legally binding, but a thing is going to come up in this fic that's real. i've had a verbal one, but not a physical one. if you have any questions about sam or zoey or me, feel free to message me.
> 
> 3\. sky is a character that was requested a long time ago. i've been thinking about adding her for many months anyway, before she was requested. (i love when we're on the same page!) if you want to know who she's supposed to be face-claim wise, again, message me :)  
>    
> 4\. sorry the chapter's off-canon again, but i hope you like it anyway. we'll get back to it next week.
> 
> enjoy!

“I went after Clint Walker,” Zoey proudly told Sam before she’d even fully sat down on the couch.

He raised his eyebrows. “Explain,” he prompted. 

“He showed up at my dad’s house – I didn’t even know he knew where that was. Although, I mean, I guess it wouldn’t be that hard to find. It’s not like 'Kulina' is a common name, and everything’s on the internet now. But yeah, I saw him out the window, and I left a note for Nate on the microwave cause I told him I’d be right back, but then I wasn’t, and then I went outside. He was starting to run away, but I followed him, and after I chased him for a while, I stopped him and yelled at him for like two entire minutes. And then he tried to mess with me again, but I yelled at him some more, and then I kicked him in the crotch,” she giggled.

Sam’s eyebrows were still arched. “You seem pretty happy about this,” he observed. 

“Well, yeah.” 

“You or Nate didn’t call the police?”

“No. I wanted to deal with it myself. He can’t fuck me up more than he already has.”

Sam scribbled something down. “Have you been engaging in a lot of reckless behavior?”  
  
She shrugged, her smile fading. She had been sure that Sam would see her behavior as improvement and progress, but it certainly didn’t sound that way. “I don’t know. Depends what you classify as ‘reckless,’ I guess. I’ve been doing a lot of things I wouldn’t normally do. Ballsy stuff.”

“What kind of stuff?” 

“Um, I went swimming at dusk on Tuesday. You know, that’s when the shark moms come to hunt by the shore. I stopped wearing my seatbelt in Nate’s car. And I started therapy with my dad.”

Sam made another note. “How’s that going?”

“Not well. But I think that means it’s going good. It’s not supposed to feel good, I guess.” 

“Individual therapy and family therapy are completely different,” Sam nodded. “I can see why it would be difficult. You're not wearing a seatbelt?”

"No."

"Why not?"

She just shrugged.

Sam set his clipboard down and stood. He walked a few steps over to the cabinet where he’d previously gotten the iPads and Zoey’s journal. This time, he pulled out a black folder. He took out a page, attached it to a new clipboard, and grabbed a spare pen from his desk before taking a seat again. 

“I’m concerned about you,” he stated. “Very concerned. Your brothers are worried, too, and they have a definite right to be.”

Zoey swallowed nervously. She didn’t like the sound of this

“I thought about pulling this out during our last session, but I decided not to. Today, though, I can tell that it’s necessary. I won’t ignore your symptoms anymore.”

 _Symptoms?_ she thought. He made it sound like she had a cold.

He handed the clipboard to her, and her stomach dropped as she scanned the page. She swallowed, trying to force herself to go numb, but it wasn’t working. “What the fuck is this?” she demanded. She could feel her voice shake, betraying her.

“This is to help you,” Sam replied, carefully gauging Zoey’s facial expressions. “I’m not comfortable continuing treatment without your signature on this.”

Zoey opened her mouth to speak and then closed it. She shook her head. “No.” 

“Zee, if you don’t sign this, I’m going to have to alert the police.”

“No! I’m fine, I just don’t want to sign it.”

“Do you want me to explain what it is first?”

“No. I understand perfectly,” she snapped.

“Okay, then you explain it to me.”

She looked at him to see whether he was serious. Once she determined that he was, she sighed and mumbled, “If I sign this, I can’t kill myself. Or... cut myself.”

Sam nodded. “Which is why I’m concerned that you won’t sign it. Do you see?” 

She looked up at him defiantly. “No,” she lied. 

“Like I said, I’ll have to contact emergency services if you won’t agree to these terms. And I won’t be able to treat you anymore.”

Zoey’s mouth dropped open again, this time in shock. The blow felt entirely personal. Her eyes welled up with angry tears. “How could you do this to me?” she spat.

“I need to keep you safe,” Sam said calmly. This wasn’t his first time going through something like this with a client. “That’s my first priority as your therapist. Right now, I don’t believe that you’re safe. I haven’t believed that for a while, but you proved it to me today. I have to take action.” 

“And if I don’t sign your stupid contract, you won’t let me come here anymore.” 

Sam nodded. “Yes, I’m afraid that’s the case.”

“You’re-” she said brokenly, and she cut herself off. She sounded so fucking weak. She swallowed and then said lowly, “You’re the only person I can talk to.”

“Which is why I suggest you sign it,” Sam said, motioning to the paper. “All it means is that you won’t cut anymore, you won’t try to end your life, and you won’t hurt yourself in any way.”

Zoey stared at the carpet and shook her head.

“What’s holding you back?”

“I have to cut,” she whispered, “and I want to die.” 

“Enough not to sign this?” 

“I just – I don’t want you to call anybody. And I don’t want you to not be my therapist anymore.”  
  
“Zee, this is serious,” Sam said softly. “Very, very serious. I can’t treat you if I don’t have your word. Do you understand?” 

She swiped at her eyes and nodded again. “Can I call my brother?”

“From my couch, yes. You’re not leaving this office.”

She hated the feeling of not being trusted by someone she trusted so much. She hated that he would give up on her just like that. She resented him in that moment.

Zoey dialed Nate and tapped her fingers on her knee as she waited anxiously for him to pick up. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be at Sam’s right now?” he asked in lieu of a greeting. 

“I am.”

“Oh… What’s up?” 

“He wants me to sign this fucking contract,” she explained angrily. 

“Just cause I took over Lisa’s work doesn’t mean I’m the right person for that,” Nate warned. “I can put you on with Dad if you want. He’s with Ryan, but if it’s important-” 

“No, it’s not that. It’s fucking – it’s a no suicide contract.”

“Oh,” Nate said softly. “And you won’t sign it?”

“I don’t want to.” 

As the words left her mouth, she realized how stupid she sounded. She was giving herself up, letting them all see how bad it was. She was so fucking weak. She hated herself. 

She looked up at Sam. “If I sign it, can I go home?” 

He pursed his lips. “This is important,” he said. “I need your word. Not just your name on a piece of paper. This contract is a promise; do you understand? If you break it, that’s it. I won’t treat you anymore.”

Zoey blinked, and a tear fell down each cheek. She hastily wiped them away. “Did you hear that?” she asked Nate in the phone.

“Yeah.” He sounded disappointed. 

“You think I should do it?”

“I don’t know, Zebra. Why are you crying?”

“Because I like Sam, and I don’t want to not be able to come here anymore. He really helps me.” 

“I know,” Nate replied. 

“He said he has to call the police if I don’t sign it.” 

She could practically feel Nate shrug through the phone. “Well, then it sounds like you’re gonna have to man up and sign it.”

“But…” She trailed off, but she knew he understood the unspoken sentence. _But what if I don’t mean it?_

“He’s a doctor. He’ll be able to tell if you’re not being a hundred percent honest.” He sighed softly. “Look, I think this could be good for you. It’s good motivation to take care of yourself better.” 

“I don’t know if I can change,” she whispered. “I don’t want to.”

Nate didn’t say anything.

Zoey looked up at Sam accusingly. “I thought you’d be proud of me for what I told you.”

“I’m glad you’re not as afraid,” he said, “but I can’t be glad that you’re willingly putting yourself in danger and then feeling positively about it afterwards. Like I said, my job is to keep you safe.” 

“No, your job is to fucking listen to me! And now you won’t anymore.” She felt herself starting to break. She folded physically in half. “Oh, god,” she muttered. “I want to go home, I want to go home…” 

“Give me your word, and if I believe you, I’ll let you leave early,” Sam said quietly, “but right now, I feel like your intention is to go home and hurt yourself.”

She shut her eyes. He was absolutely right. “I’m stuck,” she admitted weakly.

“Put me on speaker,” Nate muttered. 

She obliged and set the phone on the couch next to her. “Okay.” 

“If you do call the police, what happens?” Nate asked. 

“They come get her and put her in a three day psych hold at Larkin. Depending on how that goes, she will either be released then, or they’ll hold her an extra day or two to make sure she’s stable.” 

“I’m stable now,” she argued.

“No, you’re not,” Sam told her frankly. “If you’re thinking about hurting yourself or you’re feeling suicidal, you’re definitely not stable.”

“I’m not going to kill myself today, though,” she said firmly. “I don’t have a plan to at all! Wanting to be dead and wanting to actually kill yourself are two totally different things. I just want to be dead; I don’t want to actually kill myself.”

“What about cutting?” Sam inquired.

“Jay fucking took all my blades and my scissors when we got back from your office.”

“Zebra, you can’t cut anyway then.”

“When people are desperate enough, they always find a way,” Sam noted. 

“What if we make a plan for after I leave?” Zoey asked Sam. She was feeling a bit calmer now that she was talking it through. “We’ve done that before.”

Sam nodded. “Okay. We can do that.” He jotted something in his notes. 

“I can come home,” Nate offered. “I’m almost done here anyway. We can go hang out at the beach or the boardwalk or something. We haven’t been to the arcade in ages. That could be fun.” 

“What do you think?” Sam asked Zoey. “You think you can sign the paper? We can work on it right now and then make your plan. Or make your plan first and then fill out the contract.” 

“Contract first,” Zoey murmured. She still wasn’t comfortable, but she figured signing it was better than not signing it.

“Alright.” 

“You good?” Nate asked.

“Yeah. Sorry for… freaking out.”

“It’s alright,” he replied. “I’ll turn my ringer on in case you want to call back.”

“Thanks. See you soon.”

“Kay. See ya.”

“Bye.”

She hit End Call and looked up at Sam. “Sorry.”

“No need to apologize. I’m glad you recognized that it’s not to be taken lightly.”

She nodded. “Yeah.” She uncapped the pen, but Sam was still looking at her. “What?” 

He shook his head, his mind catching up with itself. “Nothing, just. I’m very impressed with Nate. He was really calm, and he made some good points.” 

She nodded. “He’s always like that, no matter how he feels. It’s really rare to actually see him worked up about something. I mean, me and Jay can tell better than other people, especially since I can feel it, but still. He doesn’t really show his emotions that much.” She looked down at the paper. “Okay, um. So just, fill it out?” 

“Go for it.” 

 

_Dr. Sam Winchester_

_NO SUICIDE CONTRACT_  

  1. _I, ____________________________ , agree NOT to kill myself, attempt to kill myself, or cause any harm to myself at any time._



 

Zoey filled in her name. She put the Grace just to be safe.

 

  1. _I_ _will remind myself that I can never, under any circumstances, harm myself in any way, attempt suicide, or die by suicide._
  2. _I agree to get rid of anything that I could use to kill myself, including, but not limited to, guns, other weapons, pills, etc._  



 

Jay had already taken care of most of that, but she still had a few things that she knew she could use. Like, for example, her dad’s medicine cabinet. She’d have to get Nate to ask him to lock it or something. God, this was so fucking embarrassing.

 

  1. _In the event of an emergency, such that I am in serious danger of hurting or killing myself, I agree to dial 911 or go to the nearest hospital or emergency room for immediate assistance. I further understand that if my therapist, Sam Winchester, determines that I am in serious danger of hurting or killing myself, my right to confidentiality is waived, and my therapist will make any necessary telephone calls for my own protection. I therefore authorize my therapist to contact the following people, in case of emergency:_



_NAME / PHONE / RELATIONSHIP TO ME_

_a._______________________________________________________________________

_b._______________________________________________________________________

_c._______________________________________________________________________

 

“Is it okay if I put my brothers before my dad?” she asked. “I’d rather you talk to them instead of him.”

“Yes. Whoever you want in whatever order you want. I’ll use my judgment, though; sometimes people fill this out with their spouse first, but later they’re going through a divorce. In that situation, I’d call someone else from their list.” 

Zoey nodded.

Next to a., she wrote Jay Kulina. She jotted his number from memory and then almost wrote ‘father.’ She stopped herself and filled in, ‘brother.’ Next, she put Nate, and finally, Alvey.

  1. _I agree that if I have a bad time and feel that I might hurt or kill myself, I will immediately call (PERSON’S NAME), who is my (RELATIONSHIP TO ME)._



_i._

_ii._

_iii._

_iv._

_v._

_I will continue talking on the phone with as many people as necessary for as long as necessary until the suicidal thoughts have subsided._

 

Nate Kulina. Brother.

Jay Kulina. Brother. 

She paused.

Ryan Wheeler, she wrote. Friend. 

She paused again, more tears welling up in her eyes. She was so sick of crying, but for once, this person deserved her sadness.

Lisa Prince. Friend. 

She looked up at Sam. “I only have four,” she murmured, wiping her nose on the back of her hand. “Is that okay?”

“Keep trying to think of a fifth,” he said. “For now, it’s fine.”

 

  1. _I will also_



_i. Call one of the Suicide Hotlines listed below:_

_Hopeline 24/7 (National Crisis Hotline): 1-800-394-4673_  
_Los Angeles Suicide Prevention Center: 310-391-1253_  
_Teen Line 6-10PM: 1-800-TLC-TEEN_

_OR_

_ii. Go to the emergency room_  
_iii. Call 911_

  1. _I agree that these conditions are part of my counseling contract with my therapist and are effective immediately and indefinitely._



_Signed: __________________________    _______________________________

_Client                                       Therapist_

 

Zoey signed her name and passed the clipboard back to Sam, who also signed his.

“I’ll have Charlie make a copy of this so you can take one home,” Sam said. “Hang on.” He popped his head out the door and called for his redheaded secretary. A moment later, Sam sat back down and said, “Alright, let’s talk about the plan for today.” 

Zoey nodded. “I liked Nate’s idea. We can go down to the arcade. Dad used to send us there when Jay had to work in the summer and we were being too loud in the gym. He’d hand Nate five dollars and tell us to be home for dinner. I want to see what it’s like now.”

Sam passed her a fresh piece of blank paper on the clipboard. “Here, write down what you want to do.” 

Zoey silently started writing.

 

* * *

 

Nate was sitting in the waiting room when Zoey opened the door to leave Sam’s office. He got to his feet when his sister emerged, and she was so surprised to see him that she stopped in her tracks, nearly causing Sam to bump into her.

She didn't say anything, but she went to Nate and wrapped her arms around his waist, leaning against his chest. She took a deep breath.

When they broke apart, Nate looked carefully at her face. “You okay?” he asked softly.

“Yeah.” 

He nodded. “Okay.”

Sam gave him a smile and offered, “We made a plan for the day. You don’t have to follow it to the letter, but I’d try to keep with it.” 

Nate nodded.

Sam looked at both siblings. “If you need me, just call, alright?” 

“Alright,” Zoey echoed.

"Zee, I'll see you on Monday."

She nodded.

Nate opened the front door for his little sister and waited until they were both through and it had closed behind them before he started talking. “The bikes are in my trunk. I figured you’d want to ride a little. You can go without me if you want, but I kinda wanna hang out with you if that’s okay.”

“No, I wanna hang out with you, too.”

Nate nodded, secretly glad. “Where to first?”

Zoey didn’t have to look at her paper. “I liked your arcade idea…”

“Awesome,” Nate smiled. He put the car in reverse and let Zoey fiddle with the radio as he backed out of the space and exited the office park.

It took a while for Zoey to warm back up to her normal state, and honestly, it was Nate’s smack talk that helped her get there. The two were standing side by side at the Skee-Ball machine, shoving quarter after quarter into the slots and going one at a time to watch each other’s turns. Nate – who was usually silent, determined, and overly competitive – had let a little of his more relaxed side out. 

“Beat that,” he teased as soon as he smoothly sank a ball in the 40 hole.

Zoey gave him a sassy look and landed one in the 40 to match. 

“Ugh,” Nate grumbled.

“Don’t taunt the alligator until after you’ve crossed the creek,” she smiled, her tone sickly sweet. 

“Fuck you,” Nate sighed. He went for the 100 slot on the left but missed; it rolled around and plopped into the 10. “No!”

Zoey rolled her ball up the middle again and got a 30. She grinned. “I win.”

“Best out of five?” Nate challenged. 

Zoey laughed. “Alright, you’re on, motherfucker. I’m gonna beat your ass.”

“No, I’m gonna beat _your_ ass, you little bitch.”

She smacked his arm. 

But before Nate could dig any more change out of his pocket, a voice interrupted him. “Nate Kulina?” 

Both siblings turned to see the girl from Alvey’s office standing a few feet behind them. 

Nate’s emotional wall shifted back into place, and the carefree attitude he had a few minutes ago while trying to cheer up his little sister was quickly replaced with the quiet, almost sullen one that he projected ninety-nine percent of the time. He nodded at the girl.

“I saw you from outside, and I thought I’d come say hi.” She looked at Zoey. “Are you his girlfriend or something?” 

“Sister,” Zoey corrected. 

“Oh yeah. You're Zoey, right?”

“Just Zee is fine,” Zoey corrected. 

“Zee. Got it. And I’m Sky Caylor.”

“Nice to officially meet you,” Zoey replied.

“Yeah, you too.” 

Sky glanced around, her eyebrows slightly furrowed. “I didn’t know people our age came to arcades,” she noted. 

“They’re all tourists,” Zoey told her. “We used to come here when we were kids, and we never really stopped. I mean, we haven’t been in a couple years, but it’s a good place, and the owner, Mr. Litwak, is really nice. They never overcharge even though they’re on the boardwalk.”

Sky nodded. She shifted when Zoey started to turn away. “Um. Actually,” she blurted a little rudely, “I didn’t just come to say hi. I have a question.”

Zoey turned back as Nate raised an eyebrow at the show of attitude.

“Like I said to your dad, I’m not from around here. I actually _just_ got here. Like, a couple of days ago.” She fiddled with the zipper of her leather jacket. “Where’s somewhere cheap I can get good food? I’m tired of Burger King.” 

Zoey wrinkled her nose. “You haven’t been going to the one on Pico, have you?”

Sky crossed her arms across her chest. “Yeah. What’s it to you?” she asked defensively.

Zoey shook her head. “Don’t go back there. They got shut down a couple months ago for health code violations. It’s disgusting.” 

“Well, what would you suggest?” Sky snapped. “Not all of us can shop at Whole Foods with Daddy’s money.”

That prompted Nate to turn the corners of his lips up in amusement, but Zoey just got annoyed. “Watch it. I’m just looking out for you. And I thought _you_ were the one running on Daddy’s money.” 

“My dad’s dead,” Sky said flatly. 

Zoey shrugged. “You said you got inheritance, right? So, still his fucking money.”

“Okay,” Nate said softly, stepping forward and putting a hand on his sister’s arm. “Be nice.” 

“Me?” Zoey asked incredulously.

“Yeah, you. She just wanted to know where to eat.” He turned to Sky. “We haven’t had lunch yet. There’s a diner on Lincoln…” He glanced at Zoey, knowing she’d know which restaurant he was referring to.

“As long as you buy me a milkshake,” Zoey said. 

“A double chocolate shake with extra whipped cream and two cherries,” Nate recited, a little of the relaxed temperament seeping back through.

Zoey nodded in confirmation. “Deal.”

Nate looked at Sky. “It’s not expensive, and it’s pretty good. You wanna come?”

“Sure.”

Zoey and Nate had a conversation with their eyes, debating whether or not they should play one more round of Skee-Ball They silently decided they’d check back in later.

 

* * *

 

 

“This is too much,” Sky muttered when they walked through the door.

Zoey caught her eye disapprovingly. 

Sky looked away.

They went up to the counter, and Zoey ordered first, a cheeseburger and the aforementioned double chocolate milkshake.

Then Nate motioned for Sky to take her turn. She pointed at Zoey and said, “I’ll have what she’s having.”

Nate folded his menu and, in his quiet tone, told the waitress, “I’ll have a water and the Yakety Yak.”

Sky snorted a laugh. “Okay, now one of you, tell me – _what_ is a ‘Yakety Yak?’” she teased as they walked away from the counter. 

“Ugh, it’s awful,” Zoey gushed. 

“No, it’s not,” Nate softly defended. He looked at Sky. “It’s beef and cheese.”

“Yeah, and _mushroom sauce_. And they put it all on _spinach!_ ”

“That sounds good,” Sky shrugged. 

“Ew, no. You’re not a health nut like him are you?” 

“Didn’t I just say all I’ve had to eat for the last three days has been Burger King?” she retorted.

“Touché.”

Zoey plopped down in a vacant booth, and out of habit, Nate sat down across from her. He was just about to offer to move when Sky slid in on Zoey’s left side. 

“This is too much,” she said again, looking around at all the memorabilia plastered on the walls. There was a tricycle hanging from the ceiling, and old movie posters and advertisements galore. 

“Hey, stop,” Zoey said, knocking her elbow lightly into Sky’s ribs. “We fucking love this place.” 

“They’ve never really changed it,” Nate muttered. “I’ve been coming here my goddamn whole life, and it’s always been exactly the same.” 

“Have they always made the waitresses wear those god-awful red dresses?”

“I think so,” Nate said.

“You _think so_?” Sky echoed. She shook her head. “You’d think a guy would remember something like that. Their boobs are practically falling out.”

Nate glanced nervously at his sister. 

“I’m not sure either,” Zoey chimed in quickly. “We never really paid too much attention. Jay was always doing something stupid to distract us.” 

“Jay’s your brother, right?” 

“Yeah,” Zoey answered. 

“155? King Beast Lightweight Champion?” 

Zoey almost rolled her eyes. “That’s the one.”

“He’s _awesome_.”

Zoey huffed. “He’s a fucking mess. But we love him. And don’t tell him you think he’s awesome, because he’s already got an ego the size of the fucking sun,” Zoey noted, only half joking. 

“He’s older than you, right?” Sky asked Nate.

“Yeah. Seven years older than me.” 

“And eleven older than me,” Zoey piped up.

Sky looked surprised. “Wow.” 

Zoey gave a fake smile and explained bluntly, “I was an accident.” 

“Yikes.” 

“So, tell us about you,” Nate said politely.

Sky shrugged. “There’s not much to tell, honestly. I grew up in Albuquerque, but New Mexico wasn’t my scene.” She peeled her leather jacket off, and Zoey helped her to tug it off her arm in the tight space of the booth.

“Hey, cool tat,” Sky commented as Zoey passed her the coat.

“Thanks,” Zoey said, tugging her sleeve down quickly, but she wasn’t fast enough. Sky was left staring down at the spot on Zoey’s wrist where her scars had just been visible. She swallowed and looked up at Zoey, eyes unreadable.

She kept her arms under the table but angled her arm a certain way so that Zoey could see the scars on her own arm. They were thicker than Zoey’s, and darker.

Zoey quickly glanced at Nate, but he was looking at his phone, not watching. 

The two girls shared a secret smile.

After that, the mood between Zoey and Sky was much lighter. The siblings told the new girl a little about the people in the gym. Nate gave a fighter’s perspective, and Zoey offered her opinion on how they were outside of training. They talked about Abigail, and Sky’s younger sister Melody, and how much nicer people were in California than they were in New Mexico. 

By the time Nate’s Yakety Yak had been devoured and both girls had drained their chocolate milkshakes, the Kulinas had already made plans to show Sky the cheapest grocery stores and hang out at the beach. This could be good. Really fucking good. For all three of them.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> self harm trigger warning for this one. not graphic but an exchange of 'tips.' tread carefully. message me if you have any concerns or questions, and have a great weekend!  
> (also please be happy this chapter is here because i almost didnt post today whoops yay severe depression + full time work!)

“Can I talk to you?” Alvey asked Alicia. 

“Yeah. Alright,” she answered, letting her weights clatter back onto the rack. She jogged to keep up with him as he walked briskly to his office.

“Garo wants to put you on next week’s card,” he said once they were seated. “In fact, he's bumping another girl. He's giving you her spot. It's short notice, but it's a good match-up for you. Okay? I got tape on her. I'll break it down. I'll get you ready.” 

"Awesome. Thank you, Coach.”

“You've very welcome. This… This is good. People are talking about you. You're getting around.”

“How much am I getting paid?” she asked. 

“You're getting paid eleven hundred bucks.” At her disappointed expression, he told her, “It is what it is. You are what you are. Win the fights, the money comes. Okay?”

She nodded tightly. “Got it.”

“Okay. Oh, and I, uh... I'm gonna need you to move back into the gym.” 

“Why? Did I do something wrong?”

“No, no, it's not that. I can't have you living in my house. My kids are there, and it… you know, it doesn't look right.” 

She crossed her arms over her chest. “Did Ryan say something?” she asked knowingly.

“You and Ryan have a thing, okay? I don't know. I don't care. I don't want to hear about it. I just don't want any drama in this place, that's all. You understand?”

“Yeah. I'll get my stuff out tonight.” 

“You can stay here as long as you'd like.”

 

* * *

  
  
“Sprawl, sprawl, sprawl, sprawl! Nice, get out. Get out.”

Alvey was getting a few last sessions in with Nate before his first big fight, but Ryan just had to interrupt it. He had to get something out.

“Hey. I'm sorry,” Ryan said quietly. 

“About what?” Alvey asked, glancing at him but not bothering to undo his fingers from the cage. 

“About, you know… you know, pressuring you about making a decision. It's… He's your son, I know it's fucking complicated.”

“It _is_ complicated.”

“I know. It's important to me, but, I mean, I can give you some space.” 

“Look, man, I understand where you're coming from. I do. We'll figure this out.” 

“We should grab a drink or something,” Ryan suggested. “You want to drab a drink, get some food? 

“I got plans tonight. We'll do it next time, alright?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Ryan nodded, trying not to feel too defeated. “Alright?” 

“Yeah.”

“Good, good, good.” He turned back to Nate as Ryan walked away. “Come on, come on, come on! Sprawl! Pressure, pressure, pressure!”

 

* * *

 

Sky let out a loud burp and then an even louder laugh.

She and Zoey had been hanging out at Alvey’s house, and Nate had excused himself upstairs to ‘catch up on some work.’ 

“Bullshit,” Zoey had muttered. “He’s going to take a nap.”

Sky laughed. “Tough guy, huh?”

“ _So_ tough,” Zoey teased, shaking her head.

They fell quiet. The TV was on in front of them, but neither of them were really paying attention.

“So, why did you leave Albuquerque?” Zoey asked.

“I told you; I just didn’t really like it.”

“Oh, come on,” Zoey sighed. “It had to be more than that.”

Sky shrugged and laid back against the couch. “I mean, my dad died and then my family got all weird. It was like we didn’t know how we were supposed to fit together anymore. And people looked at me different, you know? My friends didn’t treat me the same. Nobody did. So I left.” She looked at Zoey. “Why do you cut yourself?” 

Zoey shifted uncomfortably. “Why do _you_?” 

Sky nodded. “Fair enough. But honestly, I haven’t this week. I haven’t had the chance to go buy new blades yet.”

Zoey’s eyebrows drew together. “Blades?” 

“Razor blades. You know. You can get a whole pack at Walmart or whatever for like one or two bucks.” At Zoey’s expression, she asked, “Why, what do you use?”

“Scissors," she admitted. "Sometimes knives.” 

“Ow, shit,” Sky exhaled, wincing. “You gotta use blades, man. Less pain and bigger cuts.”

“I like the pain,” Zoey admitted softly.

“Me too, but it’s all about the blood. I don’t bleed enough with knives. I like my blades.”

Zoey was staring at her, amazed that she was so candid, but also a little bothered by the subject matter. She’d been under the impression that self harm was something incredibly personal that shouldn’t be discussed.

“Whatever,” Sky smiled, sensing Zoey’s discomfort. “So when do I get to meet Jay?” 

“Probably tomorrow if he gets his shit together,” Zoey sighed. 

“What does that mean?” 

Zoey looked away. “I don’t know. I wasn’t kidding when I said he’s a fucking mess lately. He might not even know about Nate’s fight. He hasn’t been training, and no one has seen him in like a week. He’s been getting high as fuck and living with some girl that I don’t like. It’s Alicia’s sister, actually.” 

“Why don’t you like her?”

“Well, I guess I don’t know her that well, but she’s making Jay crazy. All he does is lie around and get high, and he’s not like that. He’s always gotten high and shit, but not like this. Not like every single minute.” 

“What’s his poison?”

“I don’t even know anymore,” Zoey confessed. “He used to like weed and coke, but the way he was the last time I saw him… I think he’s using something else now.”

“That blows,” Sky muttered. 

“Yeah. And he’s coming off that huge win, I don’t know if you heard.”

Sky shook her head. 

“Ugh, okay. Garo, the promoter my dad always uses? He wanted to pit Jay and Ryan against each other. He’s been wanting it for months, and my dad finally agreed to it. Well, Jay beat Ryan.”

“No way,” Sky murmured.

“Yeah. It was hard to watch them fight, but it was awesome to see Jay win. I think a lot of people thought Ryan was the top fighter, and it was also cool for Jay to prove to my dad - and himself - that he could beat Dad's favorite fighter.” 

“Ryan’s your dad’s favorite?”

Zoey chuckled. “Oh, hell yeah. Ryan and Nate. We all know my dad wishes Ryan was his kid instead of Jay.”

“Ouchhhh,” Sky hissed. 

“Yeah. We don’t really talk about it. But I mean, it’s not a secret.” 

Just then, Alvey came around the corner. “You talking shit about me, princess?” Alvey mocked. 

Sky quickly sat up straight, but Zoey just shrugged. 

“Sky,” Alvey greeted. 

“Coach,” Sky replied with a tight nod.

“Making friends?” Alvey asked Zoey.

Zoey gave Sky a shy smile. “Yeah.” 

“Good, good. Keep me out of your conversation,” he noted. It would sound like teasing to Sky, but Zoey knew he wasn’t. “Uh, hey, listen – I got company coming over tonight. You wanna get your ass back to Jay’s place?” 

“No.” 

“Zo…”

“I don’t wanna be there if Mom’s there. And there’s no room.” 

“Sleep on the couch,” Alvey suggested. 

“Jay sleeps on the couch. Or at least, he used to before Mom kicked him out.”

“Yeah, Nate said they’re at a motel now, right?” 

Zoey nodded, pursing her lips.

“Well then, go sleep in your brother’s room.” 

Zoey snorted. “Yeah, okay. He'll definitely be cool with that right before a fight.”

“You could come to my place,” Sky offered, not bothered by the tension in the room. 

“You have a place?”

“It’s a little small, but yeah.” 

“I might just have to take you up on that,” Zoey answered with a small smile.

 

* * *

 

“Tell me the truth… were you offended when I said I didn't date fighters?” 

Roxanne was only half-teasing. 

“No. I mean, if you were the type of woman who dated fighters, I wouldn't be interested in you. I know those girls. They all have broken glass in their heads.” 

“Well, you're a fighter,” she pointed out. 

“No. No, no, no, I'm a coach. Small-business owner. I'm... I'm a white-collar guy.” He chuckled. “Besides, it's a small world, and I don't do seconds.” 

“Oh, I see, you've got to be the first one in,” she mused. 

“Yes.” He pointed at her, grinning. “You see, now you're thinking like a fighter.”

 

* * *

 

 

The girls stayed up watching reruns of Scandal and eating the candy Sky had stashed away in her kitchen.

“All I eat is junk,” Sky admitted.

“Really? How do you fight?”

Sky shrugged. “I make it work, I guess.” 

Twenty minutes later, Sky excused herself to the restroom and turned on the faucet as high as it could go. Zoey was watching Olivia Pope strut around on the TV when a sound caught her attention. She floated worriedly over to the bathroom door and knocked.

“Sky, are you okay?” 

“I’m fine!” came a cheery reply.

“Are you sure? Do you want me to get you some water or something?”

The toilet flushed, and Sky popped her head through the door with a smile on her face. “I’m fine. I’ll be out in a minute, okay? Go watch the show – you’re gonna miss it.” 

“I've already seen this one. Are you sure you don’t want me to leave?” Zoey asked worriedly.

“No, no. I’m not sick. I feel fine.”

“Okay…” 

Zoey went back out to the sofa and quickly composed a text message to Nate. _911!_ _Sky just puked but she says she doesn’t want me to leave. Help me think of an excuse!_

 **N:** _Are you guys drinking?_  

 **Z:** _No, just watching Scandal and eating candy  
_**Z:** _I don’t know what to say. I mean clearly she doesn’t feel good._  

 **N:** _That’s weird.  
_**N:** _You don’t think she did it on purpose do you? Like because of the junk food?_  

Zoey blinked at the screen. Shit. 

 **Z:** _Oh_  

 **N:** _Just act normal we’ll talk after my fight._  

 **Z:** _Okay. Get some sleep._

 **N:** _You too. See you tomorrow._

 **Z:** _Love you_  

 **N:** _You too Zebra_

Sky emerged from the bathroom. “Everything okay?” 

“Yeah. Just texting Nate goodnight.” 

“You two seem pretty close,” Sky said, lying back down on the ground as if nothing happened.

Zoey nodded. “We are.”

“That’s cool. I’m close with my little sister, but not my older one.”

“You have an older one, too?” 

“Yeah. Paris. She’s nice, I guess, but we don’t really have that much in common. Are you close with Jay?” 

“Usually. He’s like my dad.” 

Sky chuckled. “You say that like it’s a good thing.”

“It is. My real dad kinda sucks.” Her words were out before her mind could catch up. “I mean, he’s a fucking great coach, don’t worry. He’s just. He didn’t really care much about me and my brothers, other than Nate’s fighting.”

“That makes sense. My dad was kinda the same.”

Zoey gave her a smile. “It’s really nice to have someone that gets it.”

“Agreed,” Sky replied. 

A few minutes later, Zoey yawned.

Sky laughed. “It’s barely ten thirty!”

“Ten thirty?” Zoey repeated. “That’s my bedtime.”

“You’re nineteen, right? And you still have a bedtime?”

“Eighteen,” Zoey corrected, “and it was kind of an accident. I just got in the habit.” Bending the truth wouldn’t hurt. This girl knew a lot about her already, and she wasn’t ready to share everything.

“Alright. Well, I guess it’s good, since tomorrow’s fight night and all.” 

“Yeah, we’ll be up super fucking late. If I’m gonna be a good sister, I gotta get my rest.” 

Sky smiled. “Alright. You want the couch?” 

“Actually, I’m more comfortable on the floor if that’s okay with you.” 

“No, whatever you want is fine. You need any extra pillows or anything? I’ve got one you can have.” 

“I’m all set,” Zoey said, patting one of the couch cushions.

“Alright. Thanks for letting me stay here,” Zoey said as Sky got up off the couch and scooped up the candy wrappers. 

“No problem. I’ll be in my room if you need me, okay?”

“Okay,” Zoey smiled. “Night!” 

“Goodnight.”

 

* * *

 

 

The next morning found Alvey and Roxanne on the porch, each with a steaming hot cup of coffee in their hands.

“Your place is really nice,” she complimented. 

“Hmm,” he nodded, swallowing. “Thank you. I like it.” 

“Who else lived here?” At his expression, she said, “Don't look so caught. You're not in trouble.” 

“Okay. How'd you know?” 

“Because… I can feel her.” 

“You can feel her?” he chuckled. “Like she's a fucking ghost, you can feel her?” 

Roxanne shook her head. “No, like she's a fucking woman.”

“Oh. We, uh. We split up a few months ago. She's up in San Francisco.”

“And how long were you together?”

“About three years.”

Roxanne looked surprised. “How come you never got married?” 

“Same reason why she's not here right now. Just wasn't right.” He glanced up at her. “You want to, uh, you want to get into all this now?” 

“Oh god, no. No, don't run me off yet. I'm still having fun.” 

“Oh, good. Me too.” 

Just then, both adults looked toward the approaching sound of a clicking bike chain. Zoey coasted into view on her bike and stepped off of it just before she bounced onto the walkway.

“Hey,” Alvey said. 

“Hey,” Zoey replied, not looking over yet. She propped her bike up.

“How was Sky’s?”

“Good. Nate wants me to grab some stuff before-” She stopped short at the sight of a woman at the table. She nervously tucked her hair behind her ear. “Uh, hi.” 

The woman looked almost as confused. “Hi.” 

“Roxanne, this is my daughter Zoey. Zoey, this is Roxanne.” 

“The sushi lady?” she inquired, turning to Alvey. 

Alvey snorted a laugh. 

“You told her about that?” Roxanne asked.

“Told me what?” Zoey asked, confused.

“She must’ve seen my fucking phone,” Alvey said. 

“Yeah, _‘she’_ did,” Zoey retorted. Then she asked sweetly, “Has Lisa called?” 

“Go inside,” Alvey said, getting a little annoyed then.

“Has she?” she pressed, eyes wide with false innocence.

“Since when do you ask me that, huh? You know she hasn’t.” 

Zoey shrugged, acting nonchalant. “I just miss her, that’s all. I hope she comes home soon.” 

“Go,” Alvey urged, waving her off.

As soon as the sliding door shut behind her, Alvey apologized. “I’m sorry about that.” 

“Who’s Lisa?” 

“The ghost.” 

“Ah.” 

“She just… they got close, I guess. She’s not ready for this.”

Roxanne shook her head. “No, no. I understand. How old is Zoey?” 

“Eighteen. But you’d think she’s nine, the way she acts sometimes.” 

Roxanne gave a soft smile and started to pack her things up. 

“Where you going?” Alvey asked. 

“I, uh, you know. I got to pick up my kid.” 

“Oh shit, you got a kid?” he blanched.

Roxanne paused for a moment, watching Alvey’s face, and then she grinned widely. “No, I'm just fucking with you. I’ve got to go to work.” 

“That's not funny,” Alvey laughed.

“Hey, you’ve got three!”

“And they’re adults. That is _not_ funny.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Did you get enough?” Christina asked as Nate brought his empty bowl of oatmeal inside from where he was eating at the picnic table. 

“Yeah. Thank you.”

“You haven't heard from your brother, have you?” 

“No. I tried calling him a couple times, but he didn’t answer,” he replied as he turned the sink on and rinsed out the remains.

“That fucking Ava,” Christina sighed. “What do you think of her?” 

Nate was sure to keep his voice even. “I don't know her.” 

“I think Jay's feeding off of her.” 

Nate shut the water off and reached for a dish towel. “I think Jay's feeding off himself,” he responded flatly, “and she's just doing whatever he wants.”

“Well, I just wish he'd call.” 

Nate grimaced.

“He'll be at the fight,” Christina assured. “He wouldn't miss that.” 

Nate snorted softly. “Yeah, if he knows about it.” He shook his head. “I'm gonna finish packing. I'll be back to pick you up around five o’clock, okay?” 

“I'll be here.”

“Alright.”

 

* * *

 

“I need to start training.” 

Jay had been avoiding the subject for a handful of days, but he couldn’t put it off anymore. He could see in the grimy mirror that his muscles were starting to deteriorate from lack of use, and he could feel inside that his mind was doing the same. 

He and Ava had wandered over to the empty swimming pool behind the motel and taken a seat on the lone outdoor lounge chair. Jay was lying back on it, and Ava was reclining on Jay.

“Why?” 

“I have to fight.” 

“No,” she protested softly. “Let's just stay here until it runs out.” 

“If I fight, then it won't run out. We can stay here for as long as we want.”

She looked up at him. “I don't want you to get hurt.” 

“I won't.” He allowed himself a small smile. “I'm pretty good.” 

They were silent for a while.

“You ever think about leaving LA?” Ava inquired.

“Hmm. I guess that would depend on where I was going.” 

“Have you been to South America?”

“Yeah. I went when I was little, when my dad was fighting.”

“We could go there. We wouldn't need that much money. It's so beautiful, and the people are nice.”

Jay whispered, “No habla Español.” 

She sat up and turned to him. “I do.”

“Yeah?” he asked, pulling his baseball cap down lower over his eyes. 

“I can do the speaking for us.” 

“Aren't you, um, Cuban? I want to go to Cuba.” 

“I can't. My dad hates Castro. He'd never forgive me.” 

“I can still fight in South America. They love it. They respect fighters.” The idea was growing more appealing the longer he thought about it. 

“No.” 

“Yeah.” He hated the way she was boxing him in. Nobody dared tell Jay Kulina ‘no.’ He needed to be free. 

“No more fighting. Let's just take care of each other.” 

Ah, maybe that did sound okay. For the time being, at least.

 

* * *

 

Alvey’s call went to voicemail.

“Hey, Nate. It's me. Uh, listen, don't come down to the gym. Mac's got staph. I got to get the place cleaned up, okay? So stay home and I'll come to you.”

 

* * *

 

 

Jay tipped the gruff motel maid a few dollar bills and headed inside. 

“Still no water,” he reported to Ava with a sigh. “I'm gonna have to go to the store.” 

Ignoring him, she murmured, “We're getting low.” 

”What's left?” 

“Um, three Oxys, little bit of coke, and we shot all the heroin I had.”

“Oh. Can you call your guy?” 

“I don't have a guy. I’m not from here, remember? This is stuff I brought from Miami. Don't _you_ have someone?”

“I have Mac. I have…” he trailed off, already regretting saying that.

“Can you… Can you ask him?”

He looked a little upset, but he answered, “Yeah, I can call. What else do we need?”

“Like, an eight-ball, more Oxys, and some Valium. And I really, really would like to shoot up with you again.”

Jay sighed. “Mac doesn't have heroin.” 

“Can you ask?”

He hummed softly, knowing what the answer from Mac would be.

“That was fun,” she pushed.

Jay sighed and gave in. “Yeah, I can ask. You were very giving.

“Yeah. Thanks, baby.”

He started to go, but she stopped him. 

“Will you fuck me first?” she asked, her voice small.

That had Jay’s attention instantly. “Is that what you want?” he asked, sounding sly. 

“Yeah,” she said. She sounded a little tired, but he asked again.

“Yeah? Is that what you want?” He reached for his belt buckle, and she pulled him down on top of her.

“Come on,” she begged.  


 

* * *

 

“Ryan!” Alicia’s voice echoed through the empty gym. 

“Yeah?” 

“Hey. Where you going?” 

“Home.” He turned to leave, but she followed him. 

“Can I come?” 

He chuckled and turned back to her. “What's the matter?” he taunted. “You starting to get a little… little lonely here?” 

She sighed in response. He didn’t have to be such an asshole. 

“I know this shit is depressing,” he offered. “I used to sleep at the old gym.” 

She sighed again. “Look, I just really hate germs, okay? And I don't want to stay here until they clean this place right.”

“I know. It sucks,” he responded, but there was no sympathy in his voice. 

“Come on, dude! You fucking owe me! You screwed me out of staying at Alvey's.” 

“Oh, no. Shit, I don't tell you guys what to do.” 

“Look, whatever. I don't even care, all right? Just for a couple nights. I'll… I'll cook and clean and shit.” 

“Will you do my laundry?” 

“Your clothes will be so fresh,” she promised.

“What about Keith's laundry?”

She grinned. “I'll fold that shit perfect." 

“I charge rent,” he warned.

“I'll work for it.” 

“Hmm….”  
  
 

* * *

 

 

“Hi,” Christina greeted as she opened the door for Alvey. “Come on in.”

“Where's Nate?”

“He's, uh, out in the back with the other one.” 

“You mean Zoey?” Alvey asked, a little defensive of his daughter. No wonder Zoey never wanted to come over here. 

“Yeah, her.”

Alvey shook his head and headed for the yard. He could see his kids through the kitchen window talking as Zoey wrapped Nate’s hands.

“Alvey,” Christina said, drawing his attention back to her. “I'm sorry about Lisa and the baby.” 

Alvey nodded awkwardly. “Thanks.” 

“It's heartbreaking,” she said, and he could tell she was sincere.

God knew losing her own baby had fucked her up horribly, even if Alvey hadn’t felt as disappointed about it. They still had Nate, after all, and he was the best baby in the world. And they got to save a ton of money. 

“How's she doing?” Christina inquired.

Alvey shrugged. “She's picking herself up. You know, what else is she gonna do?”

Christina nodded. “Well, um. Just tell her I'm sorry.”

“I will.” 

“How are you doing?” Christina asked. 

“Me? I'm… I'm okay, you know? It's… It's harder on her. It's much harder on her.” He left a million unsaid words hanging in the air between them. “So…” He nodded towards Nate and Zoey. “I better get back there.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Hello, Giggles,” Jay smiled cheerfully as he opened the motel door for Mac.

“Hi.”

“How are you?”

“I'm shitty. I got a staph infection.”

“Hmm,” Jay said, shaking his head in distaste. “Nasty, nasty boy. Come on in, but keep your fucking… keep your clothes on so you don't infect the goddamn room with your diseases around here. What did you bring me?” 

“Oh, okay. All right, all right. Relax,” he said as Jay got into his personal space. “I got it. Pardon me. I can get it.”

“Hmm,” Jay murmured, backing up a step. 

“Did you bring any, um, H?” Ava asked from across the room. She was wearing a thin pair of black underwear and nothing else. 

Mac’s eyebrows shot up. “No, I didn't bring any heroin.” He turned to Jay and asked almost angrily, “Are you guys shooting fucking heroin?”

Jay chuckled wildly. “No, we're not shooting fucking heroin, Mac. We're not shooting heroin because we don't have any fucking heroin. We don't have any heroin.” 

“Then what did you bring?” Ava asked. 

Her eyes were huge, but she looked absolutely miserable – so much so, in fact, that Mac felt bothered. He’d seen people like that dragged into the ER by their friends and family; people who were on their last legs, who were so fucking hopeless that it was like even when they were high, they were drowning.

“Can I talk to you alone for a second?” Mac asked Jay quietly. 

“Yeah, man. Yeah.” 

Ava rolled her eyes but stood up and closed herself into the bathroom.

“As you can see, she used to fucking model, hmm,” Jay mused. 

“What the fuck is going on here?” Mac spat. 

“Hmm?”

“You're living like a shithead,” Mac told him flatly.

“Hmm?” Jay asked again.

“Are you shooting fucking heroin?”

The sound of water running filled the air as Ava turned on the faucet in the bathroom.

“Mac, you know, I'm fucking… I'm enjoying my win, Mac. That's what I'm fucking doing. I'm enjoying my win. And that's hard fucking work.” 

Mac looked him over and decided, “Yeah, I'm not giving you anything today.”

Jay snorted. “Excuse me?”

“You're way too fucked up, and I don't want anything to do with this fucking situation.” 

“I'm too fucked up, huh?”

“What if your mom came in and saw this fucking shit?” 

That got under Jay’s skin. “My mother? My fucking mom, Mac? You fucking shut your mouth.”

“What the fuck did you say to me?” Mac asked dangerously. 

Jay pointed at him and came closer. “I said shut your fucking mouth about my mother, Mac. Are you kidding me right now?”

“No, I'm not fucking kidding you. Get your finger out of my face.”

Jay laughed humorlessly and let his voice fall to a whisper. “You are a little bitch. You're a little fucking bitch, Mac. How fucking dare you. You little bitch! My fucking mom, hmm? Hmm?” 

“Your brother's got a fucking fight tonight,” he snapped as he zipped his bag shut.

“Yeah. Uh, fuck yeah. I know, Mac,” he lied. “I'm gonna be there, dude.”

“Nah, maybe you shouldn't,” Mac advised, but he was careless. Jay didn’t deserve anything from him.

“I'm gonna fucking be there, Mac,” Jay insisted.

“Sit here and wallow in your own shit,” Mac muttered. 

“I'll be there, Mac.”

Mac started for the door, but Jay blocked him. 

“Get out of my way. Get out of my way. Can I please…”

“I'm sorry, dude. I'm fucking sorry. I just need something, dude. I need something, Mac. Please. You got some Oxy? You got some… Please, dude. I need minimum. Fucking God, _please_ , Mac. Please, Mac. Please. Mac, I love you, dude. Just fucking help me out right now.”

The pleading broke Mac. He fucking hated being such a pushover, especially when it came to the Kulina siblings. He’d do anything for them. He dropped his bag on the bed and went to unzip it. 

“Yeah, thank you so much, dude,” Jay said breathlessly.

“Just shut up,” Mac replied shortly, tossing some Oxy on the ugly comforter.

“I know. Just… thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, dude. Thank you, Mac. Thank you, dude. Thank you. Thank you.”

Mac stopped at the door. “This is fucked up, man,” he said. “Nate and Zee need you. Get your head out of your ass and fix this.” 

“I know. I'm sorry.”

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Hey, buddy, put your dick away,” Ryan teased as he carried Alicia’s duffle bag into the house. “We got a guest.” He faltered as he saw what was on the TV, though. “Oh, shit.” 

“My dick is away, thank you,” Keith replied flatly, looking over his shoulder but not pausing the porno he was watching. 

“Hey, we got a lady here. You think you could, uh…” He motioned for Keith to turn it off. “You mind?” 

“Hey, Keith,” Alicia chuckled. 

“Hey... Alicia.” 

“Hi.” 

“This is his favorite movie,” Ryan told her. 

“It's not my favorite movie,” Keith shot back, but he paused it like Ryan asked. A naked ass was frozen on the screen, and Ryan shook his head. Oh, Keith. 

“Alright. Maybe I can borrow it sometime,” she suggested. 

“I'd rather you not,” he responded seriously. Then he looked up. “Ryan, why aren't you at the gym today?”

“Well, they're… they're cleaning it, dude. Mac got staph infection.”

“Uh, am I at risk?” 

“You're safe and sound, bud, okay? But Alicia's gonna stay with us for a couple days, okay?”

“Oh.”

“Well, you're… you're cool with that, right?” 

“It's just not very convenient, to be honest,” he admitted. 

“Look, I'm gonna stay out of your way, okay?” Alicia assured. “You're not even gonna know that I'm here.” 

“Yes, I will.” 

“Keith.” He sighed and looked to Alicia. “Well, here. Why don't you put your bag in my room? We'll… we'll sort it out.” 

“Don't worry about the porn,” she grinned at Keith. “I like it. You don't have to turn it off because of me.” 

“You can watch it with her,” Ryan teased. 

As soon as she was out of earshot, Keith grumbled, “She's trying to be the… the cool girl, Ryan, but I'm just trying to relax here.” 

He sighed. “Keith.”

“What?” 

“Was that a little rude?” 

“Yeah, she's trying to move in with us. It's very rude.” 

“No, Keith.” Ryan shook his head, giving up before he even started. “It's just for a couple days, alright?”

 

* * *

  

Nate and Zoey moved to the picnic table in the front yard while Alvey went to make Nate’s smoothie. They'd worked the mitts until Alvey was satisfied and he declared them finished. Nate was lying on one of the benches with his eyes closed, and Zoey was sitting on the table with her feet next to his feet.

“Is Jay coming tonight?” she asked, kicking at her ankle with the toe of her other shoe. 

“Don’t know,” Nate answered. He had just caught his breath, and he wanted a break. He didn’t want to think about his fucked up brother right then. 

“I called him finally,” she admitted.

“What did he say?” Nate asked, trying not to sound interested.

“Nothing. He didn’t pick up.” She sighed. “But I’m actually using my plus one for the fight the first time in my life tonight.”

Nate opened one eye to glance up at her.

“Sky’s coming. She’s really excited to see you fight in real life. I guess she usually watches on YouTube.”

Nate shut his eye and didn’t respond.

Zoey dropped her chin into her hand and watched a car drive slowly down the street.

Inside, Alvey muttered to himself, “Where the fuck is it?”

“What are you looking for?” Christina asked, poking her head into the kitchen.

“Oh, the blender to make Nate's shake.” 

She moved to a cabinet far away from the ones he was looking in produced it. “Here you go.”

“Thanks.” He dropped some banana slices and protein powder in and was starting to unscrew a jar of peanut butter when Christina stopped him. 

“Oh, don't use that peanut butter. It's old.” 

“Oh, okay.”

“Here you go. This one's new.”

“Thank you.” 

It was like being married to her again, but not in a bad way. 

“Do you think Nate is ready for this fight?” Christina asked as she sat down at the kitchen table. 

“We'll find out.” 

“Well, what... what do you think?” 

“I think he's healthy, he wants to fight, he's put in the work. We'll see how it goes.” 

“I wish he'd quit,” Christina muttered suddenly. “I- I wish he'd go to college.” 

Alvey chuckled. “College? No, I think he's got his mind set on fighting right now. It'll work itself out.”

“Well, I'm glad he stayed with you. I like seeing you two together.”

Alvey nodded. “Jay been around? I haven't seen him in days.” 

“He's with that fucking Ava. What do you think of her?” 

“What do I think of her?” he asked, laughing for real then. He answered pointedly, “I think she reminds me of somebody I used to know.” 

Christina scoffed. “Oh, fuck off. I was never like her.” 

“Oh, I don't know,” Alvey mused. “You and I used to disappear every once in awhile.” 

“Yeah, but we always had fun.” 

Alvey agreed, “We did have fun.”

The blender whirred loudly for a few seconds. Then it stopped. One more time. And then silence. Alvey poured the concoction into a BlenderBottle and asked, “You really worried about him?”

“He's using a lot and acting crazy. And… I know he's got a gun, which scares the hell out of me.” 

“Alright, you know, he's supposed to show up tonight. I'll talk to him. I'm setting up a fight with him and Ryan, so I'll get him back in camp. We'll get his head straight, okay?”

Christina nodded. 

“Are you coming tonight?” 

“I am.” 

“Okay.”  


* * *

 

Jay snorted a thick line of coke. He glanced at his phone clock again and tapped his fingers on the table to get some of his jitters out. “Honey, we got to go. We got to go.”

“Okay,” Ava sighed. She emerged from the bathroom in a completely see-through black dress – with nothing on underneath. She was all beautiful skin and full breasts. “How do I look?” 

“Um...” Jay took his sweet time looking at her before he answered. “Like you're gonna get me incarcerated.” He nodded. “Yeah.”

“Why?” 

“Because I get jealous and violent, and there's gonna be a ton of fucking eyes on you. Holy fuck.” 

“Is that mine?” she asked, pointing to the cocaine still remaining on the table.

“Yeah. Mm.”

She snorted it as Jay popped an Oxy. He motioned her forward into his lap. 

“I hope your brother wins tonight.” 

“Mm.” 

“I like it when everyone's happy.” She licked at his ear and then nibbled it. 

“Me too. I agree. Mm. Mm. You got to fucking… You got to put on a bra. It's a must.” 

“Why? You don't like it?” 

“I fucking love it. My mother's gonna be there. And my baby sister. Please just help me out.” He dropped his voice to a lower register. “Help daddy out.” 

“Okay.”

 

* * *

 

“This is taking forever,” Keith complained over the sound of a hairdryer screaming in the bathroom. 

“Not really,” Ryan replied. 

The two were sitting at the dining room table waiting for Alicia to emerge from the bathroom where she’d been for over an hour.

“Ryan.”

“What?”

“You know what this is, right? She's dominating us. Us men. She's controlling when we go anywhere.” 

“Keith.” 

“And-”

 _“Keith.”_  

“What?” 

“She's a chick, man. It just takes a little longer to get ready.”

“She's putting herself in charge, and she's aware of it.” 

“How about you grab a brew and just sit down and chill with me?” 

Keith ignored him. “It's a two-person house, and she's making it so I can't even relax in my own home.” 

“It's a couple of days, Keith.” 

“What if she drops anchor?”

Ryan rolled his eyes. “She literally doesn't have a fucking place to live. You want me to throw her out on the streets?” 

“I didn't say that.” 

Just then, Alicia walked out and Ryan jumped to his feet.

“Hey! Oh my god,” he said when he saw her. (God, could he be any more desperate?)

“You guys ready?” she asked

“Look at her.”

“Very ready,” Keith nodded.

“She looks great, right?” 

“Thank you,” she smiled.

But Keith muttered, “She should look great. It took her long enough.”

Alicia hid her giggle.

 

* * *

 

 

Rap music blasted through Nate’s ears as his dad wrapped his hands. It felt a little weird being back there without Jay and Zoey, but it was alright tonight. He needed to focus. This fight was everything. He needed to be 100% focused. If he lost… if he _almost_ lost… 

His phone vibrated on his knee, and he glanced at it, sliding his finger across it to unlock the text message. It was only two words, but it made him fight to keep a smile off his face. _Good luck._ And it was from Will.

“How's that feel?” Alvey asked, but Nate was too busy with butterflies in his stomach like a little girl to hear him.

“What?” he asked when Alvey started waving his hand. He pushed one of his headphones back so he could hear. 

“The tape,” Alvey said shortly. “How's it feel?” 

“Oh. Good.” 

“Yeah?”

Nate nodded, and a man in a suit came over to sign the wrap. 

“Joe, warm him up,” Alvey called. 

Nate slid his phone into his bag. For once, he didn’t delete his messages.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been listening to All We Know by The Chainsmokers a lot over the last few days, and I just wanted to say that I think it's an excellent descriptor of Nate, Jay, and Zoey's relationship at the end of season two. Definitely check it out if you've been keeping up with my music suggestions :)

“This is so fucking intense,” Ava muttered as she walked into the venue with Jay. It was crowded and chaotic. She was draped over his arm, trying to ignore the loud rock music and hang onto the last of the high from the cocaine in the motel room.

“What up, Michael?” Jay grinned as they got up to the bar.

“Hey! Jay!” They shook hands. 

“What do you want to drink, huh?” Jay asked Ava.

“Uh, whiskey.” 

“Two whiskeys. Two whiskeys, please.” 

“Yeah, man.” 

“Yes, sir.” Jay put two bills on the counter and said, “Keep it.”

The guy smiled. “Thank you.”

“Excuse me,” interrupted a small voice. “Are you Jay Kulina?”

Jay turned and didn’t let himself smile when he saw two boys, maybe six and nine years old, looking at him hopefully. “Yes, I am. And who are you, hmm?” 

“I'm Arturo," said the older one, "and this is my brother Miguel.” 

“Arturo and Miguel, it's very nice to meet you gentlemen.” 

“Can we have your autograph?” 

“Yeah. Of course you can. Of course you can.”  Jay sniffed and stepped toward them.

The older boy held out a pen and a cocktail napkin for Jay.

“You got a pen, you got paper - you’re all set. Turn around, face that cage. I'm gonna use your back, Miguel.” Jay glanced at the older one before he scribbled his name and a message of well wishes. “Now, is this your younger brother?” 

“Yeah.”

Jay nodded. “Yeah. You take good care of him?”

“Yeah.”

“That's very important, alright? I want you to keep it up, you understand?” 

“Yeah.” 

Jay handed the napkin to the little boy and said, “There you go. Hey, you're both fine, young gentlemen. Have a good fight night tonight. Huh? Huh?” He put his fists up, and they quickly did the same. “Oh, oh, oh, get out of here, guys. Arturo, Miguel. There you go.” He turned back to Ava and their drinks, chuckling warmly. “Miguel and Arturo. Boy!”

“You're so nice,” Ava noted.

He grinned and kissed her lips. “Cheers.” 

She clinked the rim of her glass against his. “Cheers,” she echoed.

 

* * *

 

When Zoey came into the ballroom and approached the oversized round table, Ryan stood up to greet her. He pulled her into a hug and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Hey, Little Zee.”

“Hey, Ry.” She turned to pull the girl next to her closer to the table so she could introduce them to the gaggle of Nate's supporters. “Everyone, this is Sky Caylor. She’s gonna train at Navy Street. This is Ryan Wheeler, Alicia Mendez, Shelby Moore who works at the front desk, my mom Christina Kulina, Mac Sullivan, and Ryan’s roommate Keith.” Everyone waved or nodded as their name was called.

“Nice to meet you,” Sky said, glancing slowly around the table. She looked good with her hair in soft curls, her makeup as dark and bold as ever. The burgundy dress complimented her curvy figure perfectly.

Ryan pulled out the chair next to him for Zoey, and Zoey took it, motioning for Sky to take the seat on her other side. 

The littlest Kulina dropped her voice and turned to Ryan. “Jay here yet?”

He shook his head. “Haven’t seen him. Though he might be avoiding me.”

Zoey gave him a sad smile. “I’m sure that’s not the case.”

“Eh, it’s okay. He’s still taking this whole thing pretty fucking personally.”

“Well, I admire you for not doing that.” The two bumped fists, and then Zoey turned back to Sky. “You hungry?”

“Uh, no. No, not really.”

“Well, I’m starving,” Zoey said. She reached for a roll and some butter. She didn’t notice Sky watching her wistfully as she ate.

“Zee, how did Nate look?” Alicia inquired. 

Zoey nodded as she chewed and swallowed. “Good, good. He seems a little fucking tense, but when doesn’t he?” 

They all chuckled in agreement.

“He’s gonna fucking murder this guy, though,” Zoey smiled. Ryan affectionately mussed her hair, and she batted him away. “Cut it out,” she grumbled. 

“I can’t believe you’re friends with Ryan Wheeler,” Sky whispered to her.

Zoey let out a laugh. “He’s Jay’s best friend. And he was literally my fucking babysitter when I was a kid.” 

“Are you two talking about me?” Ryan teased. 

“Yeah. She said it’s cool that I’m friends with you. I was telling her you’re just a babysitter.”

“Hey! Little Zee, I am fucking _wounded_ , _”_ he told her dramatically, putting a hand over his heart. 

Zoey shrugged, mocking seriousness. “It’s true.” 

“Fuck that. I’m awesome. I’m a fucking _inspiration._ You and Nate were _begging_ Jay to let me babysit.” 

Sky giggled.

“Maybe,” Zoey admitted.

He leaned over to Sky. “You bet your ass they were. I was the coolest babysitter in town. They fucking _loved_ me.” 

“Yeah,” Zoey deadpanned. “Past tense.”

Ryan whacked her arm affectionately. “[I made you popcorn at 1AM](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6242407/chapters/16991325).”

“That was _one time!”_  

Just then, the table fell quiet. Zoey looked up to see why, and her eyes landed on her brother. Anyone watching her would have seen her whole face light up. “Jay!” she exclaimed. She launched out of her chair and bounced over to Jay to give him a big hug. She was saddened when he didn’t hug her back; in fact, he barely even looked at her. His focus was entirely on Ava, who was hanging off his arm.

Zoey retreated to her chair, her cheeks red with embarrassment. Sky gave her hand a sympathetic squeeze, but Zoey tugged it away in favor of crossing her arms self-consciously across her chest. She watched enviously as her big brother kissed Christina’s hair and took a seat next to Mac. Of course, fucking Ava was pressed way too close to him the entire time in a too-short, see-through dress that Zoey would have laughed at on a rack.

She stared as Jay and Ava smiled and talked together as though they were the only two in the room. It wasn’t like Jay to be like this; he was usually the life of the party. She hated seeing him so fucking absorbed in this little crackhead.

“I'm gonna go check on my brother,” Jay announced when his alcohol was gone. “I'm gonna be back in a little bit, okay?”

“Jay, he’s not really-” Zoey began, but she cut herself off. He clearly wasn’t interested. Maybe he deserved getting a verbal beating from Alvey anyway.

Sky wrapped her hand around Zoey’s again, and this time, Zoey didn’t pull away.

 

* * *

 

“There's my babyfaced killer!” Jay crowed, bursting into Nate’s holding room. His little brother was sparring rapidly with Joe Daddy, but Jay didn’t care. He didn't realize it until that moment, but he had missed Nate so much, and he was more than willing to interrupt and offer some brotherly advice. “Joseph, can you excuse us for a second?” He grabbed Nate around the neck and got in his face. “Now, this is your fucking night. Phase one, brick by brick.”

“I got to warm up, Jay,” Nate muttered, clenching his jaw tightly. He turned his chin away to get Jay’s hands off of him.

“It's time for you to be a fucking fortress, son. Look at me when I'm talking to you.”

Nate pushed him away, trying to ignore him. He couldn't have looked at Jay even if he tried. He repeated, “I got to warm up. I got to warm up.” 

It’s not like Jay could just waltz back in here like nothing had ever gone wrong. Like he didn’t care at all that he hadn’t seen Nate in two entire fucking weeks. Like he hadn’t just bailed on the gym and his entire family. Like he hadn’t chosen drugs over his siblings. No fucking way. Jay owed him more, and Nate wasn't going to let him get away with what he was trying to do.

“Why don't you fucking look at me when I talk to you?” Jay asked, getting right back in his face. “Why don't you fucking look at me?”

Something inside Nate snapped – he shoved hard at Jay’s chest, pushing him back several feet. Nate didn’t know whether it was worse that his brother didn’t try to stop it and defend himself or that he was so high that he didn’t even see it coming.

Everyone in the room made some sort of sound at the heavy reaction from the usually calm Nate. Luckily, Alvey intervened almost immediately. 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Hey! That's enough. That’s enough.” He grabbed Jay by the arm. "Let's take a walk.” He looked to Nate and Joe and instructed, “Keep working.” Then back to Jay, “Let's take a walk.”

The older man led his son into the hallway and shut the door so that Nate wouldn’t be bothered further by the family drama. “What the fuck are you doing?” Alvey demanded. "What the fuck are you doing? Huh? He's got a fight in a few minutes. You come in here all fucking twisted? You want to get in his fucking head, huh? How fucked up are you right now? How fucked up?” He shook his head, disgusted at how careless Jay was acting. “Look at me. You're gonna fucking piss it all away, aren't you?” When Jay didn’t respond, he asked again. “Aren't you?” 

“Yeah,” Jay nodded sarcastically. “Piss... piss - piss what? Piss what?”

“Piss fucking everything,” Alvey spat. 

“Pissing what away?” 

“Everything! _Everything!_ You were doing so fucking good. So fucking good, okay? You know we're trying to put this fucking rematch together with Ryan, right? Right?”

“Yeah. I just got to let his knee recover, cause, you know, I took advantage,” he drawled. God, he needed another drink. Or three.

“Oh, come on,” Alvey sighed. “It was a fucking bullshit article. The guy took a fucking angle. Ryan never said it like that, and you know it. You want the fight?”

Jay kept staring at the wall. 

“Do you want the fight?” Alvey asked slowly.

“Sure,” he replied flippantly. “I want the fight.”

“Oh, you better take it seriously, motherfucker. You come in out of shape, he will fucking _kill_ you. Do you understand? I mean, if this is how you're living, bro, I don't...” Alvey shook his head, disappointed. “I don't know what you do anymore.”

“All I care about is that I get the same money as Ryan. I don't need to get paid more. I just need to get paid equal.” 

“I'll talk to Garo. Okay? But let me tell you something. You had your fucking little fun. It's done. It's fucking over. Get your shit together. Do you understand me? And you're not in Nate's corner tonight, so go home. Go home. Leave your sister alone. Go home and get cleaned up.”

Jay sniffed and wiped his nose with the back of his hand. He had no intention to take a single one of Alvey’s suggestions. He wasn’t done using, and he certainly wasn’t going home. He came out to drink and watch his little brother beat the fuck out of whichever guy he was fighting, and that’s exactly what he was going to do.

 

* * *

 

Standing in the same hallway Jay and Alvey had disappeared into, Nate shook his arms out and stared up at the ceiling. The pale lights flickered a bit, but it fit Nate’s mood, so he didn’t mind. He could still remember word for word what Alvey had said to him in the office. 

_You're a great athlete, Nate. I don't know if you're a great fighter. And the difference between good and great is immense. It's... it's a fucking hundred miles. It's a mind-set. It’s a mental fucking illness that I don’t see in you._

“And now, ladies and gentlemen, please welcome to the cage, Nate Kulina!” 

The crowd was cheering, but Nate was so pissed at Jay that he could barely hear it. He stormed out of the curtain and down to the octagon. He peeled his sweatshirt off as he went, not even waiting until he got where he was supposed to be. He wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible. He was hungry for victory, hungry for blood.

“Fuck him up!” Ryan yelled from across the room, and Zoey was standing with Alicia, Ryan, Mac, and Sky, but she was quiet. She could feel that something was off with her brother. She watched anxiously. 

“Sir, you ready to fight? Sir, you ready to fight? Fight!”

The bell was loud, but it was familiar. Nate held his glove out for the other guy to touch, but it was ignored.

He heard Alvey cry, “You set the pace!” but it didn’t register.

Several slow seconds passed as the two fighters danced around each other, neither of them getting in a single jab.

The other coach yelled, “Yeah! Yeah! Keep circling! Keep circling! Good! Keep moving, keep moving!” 

The cage rattled as Nate dodged a punch and his opponent crashed into it. The guy held up his arms and taunted, “Let's go, bitch!” 

The next thirty seconds were bad. Zoey was worried; it had only been a minute, but the other guy was clearly dominating the round. What the fuck was Nate doing? The guy had him up against the cage and was smashing punch after punch into his side, and Nate was just taking it. Almost like… almost like it felt good. Zoey bit her lip. She chanced a glance over at Jay, but he was drinking. He wasn't even watching the fight. God, he was gonna make himself sick. She shook her head and turned her attention back to the cage just in time to see Nate shove the guy off of him and slam his fist into the guy’s face, knocking him down hard against the canvas. She smiled.

Nate lunged down and climbed swiftly atop the guy’s hips. He got a few good punches in before the guy recovered and there was a struggle for dominance.

Too soon, the round was over, but Alvey seemed more than pleased. “That's the way we fucking fight!” he encouraged as he climbed into the cage. “Beautiful! Sit down. Beautiful. Breathe.” 

Nate felt so good hearing that sincerity from his father, especially after their last conversations about fighting. This was good. This was so fucking good. He exhaled heavily and took a gulp of the water Joe Daddy passed him.

“Small sips. Small sips, okay? Listen to me. Listen to me. I want you to stay away from those kicks. That's all he has is those kicks, right? He's got no hands. He's got no ground game.” 

Nate nodded, resting his gloves on Alvey’s shoulders. God, he’d nearly forgotten how his father’s word was worth more than the fucking Bible. Whatever Alvey told him to do, he’d do it. Fucking anything.

“When he comes in with the kicks, I want you to time them. I want you to time them. Shoot and take him down and fucking finish him, okay? This motherfucker can't hang with you.” 

Nate nodded ceaselessly as he listened.

Outside the cage, Jay rocked forward a little in his chair. Zoey was still angry with him, so she was standing in front of him then where she couldn't see him, but Christina had barely taken her eyes off of him all night. 

“Mac,” she said loudly, still staring at her eldest child. 

Mac followed her eyes to Jay and moved toward him. “Hey,” he said softly, but he didn’t seem too concerned. This wasn’t the first time Jay had tried to ingest too much.

“He can't hang with you,” Alvey was repeating inside the cage. “Your fucking fight, right? Your fucking fight. I want you to fuck this guy up!”

The referee shouted to let the coaches know that their time was almost up, but at that same time, a glass shattered sharply several feet behind Nate. There was a loud cry from one of the tables, and Nate easily picked his sister’s voice out from the mix. He whirled around to see Jay on the floor. 

At first glance, it looked like Mac had thrown a punch at Jay. But as he watched for a moment longer, he realized that Jay had actually fallen out of his chair. Ryan swooped in from behind Sky and Zoey to help Mac get Jay off the carpet and out of the ballroom. Everyone at the table was staring after them except Zoey, who was tucking a lock of hair behind her ear and walking calmly toward the cage. 

“Hey, hey! Focus!” Alvey called to Nate. “Focus! In front of you! Come on.”

“You ready to fight? Are you ready to fight?”

But Nate didn’t answer. His eyes were shut, and he was taking deep breaths.

“Sir, are you ready to fight?” 

He needed to prove to Dad that he could do this, that he could handle the pressure, that he was really the monster that Alvey had always wanted him to be. He needed to prove to Jay that he could win without his big brother hovering over him and building him up. He needed to prove to Zoey that even when shit went down, good things could happen too. He needed to prove to himself that he was more than a ‘great athlete’ and that he could be a great fighter, too. He could do this. He had to do this. 

“ _Nate!_ Are you ready to fight?”

Finally, he opened his eyes. He nodded. 

“Fight!”

The round was a mess. A fucking bloody mess, but for Nate, that made it all the better. He could relax.

There was a huge cut on his left cheekbone that was dripping warm blood down his cheek to his chin, but it didn’t hurt. It felt good. It just pushed his adrenaline harder.

He managed to knock the guy out in one punch, and his blood splattered across Nate’s chest before he hit the ground. He was out cold.

Alvey was screaming, and Zoey smiled and wove her fingers through the cage, but Nate was calm. He did it; he found that happy place. That mental illness. That sickness. He understood then; everything his father had always preached, all the violence Jay so easily threatened, every fight that Ryan used to get into, and all the injuries that Zoey inflicted upon herself. For the first time in his life, it clicked. 

He tugged his mouth guard off of his teeth just in time for Alvey to fly into his arms. They shared a tight hug, and then Nate grinned proudly at Zoey, who flung her arms around his neck and squeezed. He lifted her off the ground. 

“You did it!” she cried. “I knew you would.”

He kissed the side of her head and set her back down, too happy to speak. His blood was smeared across her temple.

Joe Daddy and Juan were next to embrace him, and the familiar chant was growing in the crowd. “Navy Street! Navy Street! Navy Street!”

He felt powerful as fuck. He felt clean. He felt strong. It should have felt dangerous, but it didn’t; it felt right.

 

* * *

 

Back in the men’s restroom, things weren't going nearly as well.

Jay was puking his guts out in a stall while Mac and Ryan stood by the sink and quietly waited. 

After a few minutes, Ryan offered, “Hey, uh… I know it's a little late, but I'm sorry that I hit you.” 

Mac didn’t seem surprised by the apology, but he was quick to dismiss any speculation of bad blood between them. “Oh, you were drunk,” he replied easily.

“Yeah, I know, but I'm… it's not an excuse. You're a friend. I- I was a dick. I'm sorry.” 

“Ryan, we're good,” Mac assured.

The pair shook hands. 

“Alright. How's your, uh. How's... how's your staph infection?”

“Oh, it's gross.” 

“Yeah.” 

“But I'm on antibiotics, so it should be knocked out.”

“Yeah, good.”

“You want to see?”  Mac asked, starting to undo his jeans.

Ryan put a hand out to stop him. “Oh, no, no.” 

The toilet flushed, and Jay shakily emerged from the stall. He was panting a little.

Ryan reached forward and turned on a faucet for him as he approached. He went toward the water without speaking, just cupping his hands under the stream and slurping the water into his mouth. After a moment, he spit it out. Then he did it again. The third time, he drank.

He sagged against the sink when he was finished, and Mac and Ryan helped him over to a wall to sit back against. He exhaled tiredly.

“Hey, Mac, uh, can you give us a minute?” Ryan asked.

Jay was breathing pretty heavily, and Mac watched him for a moment before nodding. “Hey. I'm gonna be right outside, alright?”

The door swung shut, and there was quiet.

Jay groaned and let out a weak cough.

“Hey.”

Jay groaned again. 

“Hey, Jay. Listen, dude. That article was fucked up, okay? It was not my intention.”

Jay tried not to snap too hard at his best friend as he said, “Yeah, I- I can't really talk right now.” 

Ryan pushed on anyway. “No, I'm just saying. It... It... My knee had nothing to do with it. You were the better man, and it should have just stayed at that, all right?” Ryan crouched down next to him. “Come on. Hey.” 

Jay sighed, his breath seeming to tremble. 

“Hey. You don't have to take the rematch if you don't want.”

“I'm in. You know that.”

“Right, right. But I'm saying… you don't have to, Jay. You're the champ. You don't owe me shit.” 

“It's happening.” 

Ryan looked up at the door at a sudden burst of noise. It sounded like Mac was arguing with someone, but he couldn’t hear who through the heavy door. And then the door was swinging open and Zoey was shoving her way in, all angry steps and tired eyes. 

“Zee, come on, don’t do this now,” Mac was saying. He looked helplessly to Ryan. “I tried to stop her, but she won’t listen.” 

“No, I won’t fucking listen,” she spat. “He’s my brother.”

“It’s okay,” Ryan said to Mac. He stood up and went to Zoey. “Come here,” he said.

“No.” 

“Just – Little Zee, come on. Come on.” 

They moved a few feet away, and Ryan turned on a sink so that his words would be muffled from Jay’s ears. But the oldest Kulina sibling didn’t seem to be listening anyway. His eyes were shut, and he looked about ready to fall asleep against the cool tile. 

“He’s really sick,” Ryan murmured to her. 

“Thank you, I can see that.” Zoey rolled her eyes. 

Ryan grabbed her by the shoulder. “I’m fucking serious. We’re talking about going to the hospital in a minute.”

She shook her head. “They’ll put him on a hold.”

“I know,” he snorted. “I know that better than anyone.” 

“I just want to talk to him. You can’t stop me, Ryan. He’s my brother.” 

“Be gentle with him, okay?” 

“No, you know what?” She reached forward and shut off the water. “I fucking love you, but you need to stop telling me what to do all the time. You’re the fucking reason that I left in the first place! If you hadn’t told me to tell anyone what was wrong, none of this would have fucking happened!” 

“Zoey, what the fuck are you talking about?” Ryan asked, his voice low. 

“I was doing okay, but then Fourth of July happened and you told me to tell my family what happened to me and I did and fucking _everything_ fell apart! That night, I woke the whole house up screaming for help from Nate, and I scared the shit out of him. He left the goddamn house because he was so upset. Jay had to call Lisa to come over because he didn’t know what the fuck to do with me.”

“Zoey-” 

“No, Ryan, I’m not done. You think that your relationship with my dad is so fucking great, but do you even see what it does to us? It just makes him hate us all more because you’re so perfect. Even when you’re fucking not, he still thinks you are. You’re just mean and violent. That’s why he likes you.”

“That’s not true,” Ryan said calmly. He knew Zoey was speaking out of anger, but he’d also learned a hell of a lot at rehab, and one of the things they pushed was that anger was a secondary emotion. Anger was a response to fear or pain. And Zoey was terrified and heartbroken. Of course she was going to come after him like this. 

“You came to Arizona and got me – why the fuck would you do that? I obviously didn’t want to be found, but you came and got me anyway, and everything was fucked up even more! My family fell apart because of me. Because of _you._ I ruined everything, and now Jay’s using, and my therapist made me sign a fucking suicide contract and-”

She cut herself off. “Why am I even telling you this? You’re not fucking worth it. You tore my family apart.” 

God, it wasn’t true. It wasn’t true at all, but it did still hurt Ryan a little bit that she was taking her problems out on him so aggressively. Those were some personal digs.

She turned away from Ryan and stalked to her brother. 

“How could you do this to me?” she demanded. “Again and again and _again_ you promise me that you’ll be there for me, that you’ll take care of everything, that you’re going to be there for my birthday. And you fucking weren’t, Jay. You spent the day with fucking Ava instead of me, and it was my _birthday_. I asked you for one day away from her – one day! – and you couldn’t even give me that. I just wanted to be with you and Nate. I didn’t ask for a single fucking thing other than that, but no, Ava’s just way more important than me. The drugs are more important than me. What the fuck is wrong with you?

“You know you’re being just like Dad, right? I mean, you have to know that – you’re acting _just_ like him. Making empty promises, running off with some girl to avoid real life, judging everyone for using when all you do is use yourself, only showing up and pretending to care when Nate has a fight… but it’s all about you now, isn’t it? No more ‘family first.’ No more ‘you n’ me n’ Nate.’ It’s just me and Nate now."

Jay’s eyes were wide, filled with tears, as he stared at her shoes. 

“And you’re sick, so I’m supposed to feel bad for you, right? Well, I _don’t_. You fucking did this to yourself. You promised after you ODed that this would never happen again.” She laughed humorlessly. “Oh, sorry, I forgot. Your promises don’t mean anything anymore, do they? No wonder Nate didn’t want to come talk to you tonight.” 

She stared at him, angrily waiting for a reaction, but there was only silence. She rolled her eyes. 

“That’s fine. Just sit there and don’t say a goddamn word. That’s great, Jay. I’m so glad you care so much about Nate and me. I’m so glad you want to make this right. I’m so glad you’re not giving up on us. Thanks a lot.” She looked to Ryan and back to Jay. “Fuck both of you guys,” she spat. And then she headed right back out the door where she came.

The silence felt thick in the room after Zoey’s echoing yelling had ceased. Jay dropped his chin to his chest, two of his tears spilling over.

“Okay, okay,” Ryan murmured, moving forward and snapping two paper towels out of the dispenser. They rustled loudly as he handed them to Jay and helped him wipe his mouth and his cheeks. “Hey, come on. Clean yourself up. Stop. Stop.”

Jay spit a little more vomit into the balled up paper towel and then leaned heavily on Ryan as they stood up and headed for the door. 

“Come on. Over here. Come on. Okay. Ready? Come on, let's go. Let’s get the fuck out of here.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> changing my posting day to sunday because im just too busy. on a good week, i may post on saturday. but just expect the chapters to shift to sunday :) thanks for being flexible.  
> have a happy halloween! i'll be handing out candy dressed as mabel pines.

Sky was waiting for Zoey outside the bathroom. 

“Hey,” Sky said softly. “Are you okay? I heard you yelling.”

Zoey walked forward into her new friend’s arms without speaking and draped her arms around her neck. Sky tightly returned the hug and pressed a kiss to Zoey’s temple. Zoey was too tired to process it. 

“You wanna come back to my place tonight?” Sky asked as she ran her fingers up and down Zoey’s back. “I’ve got some sweats you can borrow.”

Zoey nodded into her shoulder. 

“Alright,” Sky said firmly. “Come on, babe.” She gave Mac a tight smile and took Zoey’s hand, weaving their fingers together in what Nate used to call “the waffle.” 

Zoey let Sky lead her back through the ballroom and out to her car. It was newer than Nate and Jay’s, but definitely not what anyone would consider a nice car. Again, Zoey was too tired to care. 

Pop radio played softly as Sky drove. She turned it down a little when Zoey’s phone rang.

“It’s Nate,” Zoey said quietly. "I have to answer." She slid her thumb across the display, set the phone on speaker, and said, “Hey.” 

“Hey. You okay?” 

“I think so. You?” 

“Yeah. Mac said you’re going to Sky’s place?”

“Yeah. I don’t want to go to either house right now. No offense.” 

“None taken. Um, Dad’s going out to some mystery dinner and Mac’s taking Jay back to the motel, so I’m driving Mom home and I’m just gonna go to bed.” 

Zoey shut her eyes and rubbed a hand over her face. “Mmkay. I'm sorry.”

“Nah, it's fine. I'm not really in the mood for a party anyway. But, um. Mac said you gave Jay a piece of your mind?” 

“A fucking big piece,” she told him. 

He sighed. “Well, good. He needs to know how fucking bad it’s getting.”

Sky looked nervously at Zoey, but Zoey paid her no mind. “Yeah. Congrats again. You were great.” 

“Thanks. Text you in the morning?” 

“Yeah. I love you, Nate.” 

“You, too. Night, Zebra.” 

“Night.”

Zoey hung up, but Sky didn’t turn the radio up. The car was silent the rest of the way to the apartment.

 

* * *

 

“Where are they taking him?” Christina asked worriedly as she and Nate walked up the hill to the parking lot.

“Mac's taking him back to the motel.” 

“He should come back to the house.” 

“He doesn't want to come back to the house. He wants to go be with Ava at the motel.” 

“Well, she can come, too.” When he didn’t reply, she whined, “Nate!” 

He snapped at her. “What do you want me to do? Throw him in the trunk of the car? He doesn't want to fucking come. He'll sleep it off tonight.” 

“You have to help him. He won't listen to me. He thinks I'm trying to ruin things with Ava, but he's… You're the only one he'll listen to. You have to get him out of that place.” 

He sighed. “I'll try.”

 

* * *

 

Mac helped Jay out of the car and practically dragged him up the sidewalk and into the dark motel room. Ava flipped the lamp on, and Mac deposited his friend onto the bed. 

“Mac. Mac, thank you. You're wonder... wonderful. Come here. Come here.”

“Yeah,” Mac muttered, ignoring him and pushing his hand away. He held out a plastic cup. “Spit your gum out.”

“Mm,” he hummed sleepily. 

“Spit your gum out,” Mac insisted.

Jay obeyed and was immediately back to sleep.

“You got to watch him tonight,” Mac told Ava. 

“I will. Do you have any coke?” 

Mac blinked at her blankly. “No.”

“I- I have cash.”

“I don't care if you got cash.” He shook his head, disgusted. “You're cut off.”

“But-!” 

Mac interrupted, his voice low and dangerous. “I've known Jay a lot longer than you. And I'm not gonna stand around while you fuck him up.”

Ava looked at him, almost afraid, her eyes wide.

“You just call me if he gets worse,” Mac instructed, and he slammed the door shut behind him.

 

* * *

 

“Here,” Sky said, pulling out a pair of gray sweats and a Nirvana shirt for Zoey. "It gets cold at night."

“Thanks,” Zoey murmured, accepting them and changing right there. She noticed Sky watching her, but she didn’t care enough to stop. She peeled off her dress and stepped into the sweats, grateful for something soft to wear. She tugged them up around her hips and then dragged the long sleeve shirt down over her head. She left her dress in a rumpled heap on the floor and asked, “Do you have a hairband I can use?”

Sky reached into a drawer and handed her a thin, black elastic. Zoey tugged her hair up into a messy bun and sat down tiredly on the edge of Sky’s bed. 

“You’re really beautiful,” Sky told her.

Zoey almost laughed. “Thanks.” She was grateful to have someone to tell her that even when she felt so awful inside. Not to mention that her makeup was likely smudged and that she was literally wearing sweats. “Do you mind if I just go to sleep?” 

“No, not at all. I’m exhausted too.”

“Thanks. I’m sorry I’m not good company tonight. I swear usually I’m fun.” 

Sky smiled. “No, you’re good. Don’t worry. It’s been a long night.”

Zoey nodded absently. 

“You wanna stay in here with me?” Sky asked. 

“I don’t really… this is gonna sound weird, but I can’t really sleep in beds.” 

Sky’s eyebrows knit together. “What?”

“I got used to sleeping on the floor.” Zoey shrugged, trying to sound casual.

Sky saw through her but knew better than to push her. “Alright. Whatever you like. I’ll be up here if you change your mind, okay?” 

“Thanks, Sky.” 

“No problem.”

Zoey laid down on the floor and promptly curled up on her side. Within seconds, she felt overwhelmingly alone. She wanted her scissors. 

Maybe coming here was a mistake. She should have gone home and slept with Nate. That would have made both of them feel better. But she didn’t want to deal with Mom, and he was probably in pain, anyway. Yeah. He’d need his whole bed to himself tonight.

Zoey listened as Sky moved around, taking off her makeup, changing into pajamas, and rustling around, trying to get comfortable under her covers.

Twenty minutes passed, and Zoey could tell from Sky’s breath that she had fallen asleep. Zoey sat up slowly, gathering her dress and her cell phone and tiptoeing to Sky’s bedroom door. She held her breath when the door creaked, but the sleeping girl didn’t move. Zoey exhaled silently and shut the door behind her.

She moved quietly to the apartment door and went through it, checking to make sure that it stayed locked when she left. It did.

Zoey opened her phone to the map and put in an address she’d only been to once. She prayed she could find the right house in the dark and then set off on her way.

 

* * *

 

It was Keith that answered the door. He had a toothbrush in his mouth and blue foam all around his lips.

Zoey stared at him for a moment, and he stared back at her. 

After a moment, he asked, “Can I… help you?” 

“Oh, yeah. Um. Is Ryan here?”

“Yeah. He’s having sex with Alicia, though.”

“Oh,” Zoey replied, her face falling considerably.

“I’ll go get him,” Keith told her.

“No!” she cried, but Keith was already halfway through the dining room. Although she hadn’t been invited in, she bolted through the house after him. “Keith, no! Fuck! Please don’t!” He turned around, and she hissed to him, “No, it’s okay, it’s really okay. I’m gonna go. I’m just gonna go, alright? Don’t get him.” 

Keith had just opened his mouth to speak when Ryan’s bedroom door flew open and the fighter emerged, a sheet wrapped loosely around his hips. “What the fuck is going on?” he asked, looking worriedly to Zoey. 

“N-nothing,” Zoey stuttered, subconsciously taking a step back. “I’m so sorry. I was just leaving.”

“She asked for you, so I was coming to get you,” Keith explained, some of the blue bubbles dribbling down his chin and falling to his t-shirt. 

“No, it’s fine,” Zoey assured quickly. “He said you were… busy, and then he went to get you, so I was trying to fucking tell him no. I didn’t mean to interrupt anything." With the initial panic over, the previous events of the night seemed to come flooding back to both of them. Zoey crossed her arms over her chest and turned away. “Sorry, I’m sorry,” she muttered.

“What are you doing here?” he asked quietly.

“Nothing, it’s fine,” she replied, trying hard to keep her voice level as she hurried for the door.

“Where the fuck are you going?” he asked, jogging to catch up with her. “It's the middle of the night. Don't leave. Let me put some clothes on, okay? Let’s talk.”

She snorted a laugh. “I’m going, Ryan. I didn’t mean to bother you. I’m sorry.”

He caught her arm in a tight grip. “Hey. We need to fucking talk. Let me get dressed really quick.” 

Zoey turned around and looked at him then, really looked at him. His hand was clutched tightly around the bed sheet, and he needed to shave, but his eyes looked sincere. She swallowed. “You... you would do that for me?”

“Of course,” he replied easily. 

Zoey swallowed and then nodded slowly. “O… okay.” He started for his room, but Zoey called, “Ryan?” 

He turned back.

“I… you didn’t tear my family apart. I don’t know why I said that.” 

He nodded in acknowledgement of her statement but didn’t say anything. He came back out a few moments later in athletic shorts and a t-shirt. Alicia followed behind him. 

Zoey looked at the floor and was surprised when Alicia came up and gave her a hug. Ryan grabbed some beers from the fridge and then motioned Zoey outside. Ryan took a seat at the head of the table, and Zoey sat adjacent to him. They clinked the necks of their bottles together and then each cracked theirs open. 

“So,” Ryan said after a long drink. “Wanna tell me what you’re doing at my house at 2 AM?” 

Zoey shrugged and messed with the label on her beer. “Couldn’t sleep,” she lied. 

“Mac said you went home with Sky?” he asked.

“Yeah, but it didn’t feel right,” she mumbled. “I don’t know. I didn’t want to be there, and I didn’t want to be home.”

He nodded. Quiet fell as he let her figure out what to say. He’d had enough experiences in counseling and therapy to know that sometimes all that was needed for the truth to spill was a long pause. 

Crickets chirped in the background, and a car rumbled down the street. Ryan swirled his beer around but didn’t take a sip. He waited. 

“Okay, um,” she muttered. “I’m sorry that I said that you make my dad hate us. Cause you don’t. And I’m sorry for saying that you tore my family apart. Cause you didn’t.” 

“I left you at the shelter the first time,” Ryan pointed out, his eyes boring into hers. “It fucking killed me to do, but you wanted me to leave you there, so I did. And then Ellen said you were ready to come home, and I started looking at fucking plane tickets, but when she told me you changed your mind, I didn’t push you or even ask any questions. It’s not like I kidnapped you and dragged you back to California. I did exactly what you wanted.” 

“You’re right. I’m really sorry. I was just… I was so fucking mad at Jay, and all of that just came out.”

“I get it,” he said, “but don’t fucking take it on me like that again. Alright? It’s not fair.”

She nodded, ashamed. “I’m so sorry,” she repeated.

Ryan looked at her, taking a leisurely sip of his beer. He let her feel bad for a moment longer before he changed the subject.

“So, what’s the deal with Jay anyway?”

She shrugged dejectedly. 

“Cause… Mac called a little while ago.” 

She looked up at him nervously.

“He said that he and Ava are shooting heroin.” 

Zoey’s hand moved slowly up to her mouth. “No,” she whispered. “Ryan, no.”

He nodded. 

Zoey stood up and walked a few feet away, her back to him. “He wouldn’t do that.”

Ryan sighed but didn’t speak.

Zoey turned back around worriedly. “You believe him? Mac, I mean?” 

“Yeah, I do. I do.”

Zoey swallowed, taking in the new information. “I… I should go.”

“Hey, no,” he said quickly, standing up. “It’s so late. Didn’t you walk here?”

She nodded. 

“Yeah, I’m not letting you walk home right now. And,” he held up his beer,” I’m too drunk to drive.”

“You’re not drunk,” Zoey argued. 

“Yeah, I am,” he lied. “From earlier.” 

She let her shoulders droop. “Then what do you want me to do?”

“Stay here tonight.” 

She looked at him skeptically. “This is Keith’s house.”

“Hey, it’s my place, too. You can stay on the couch or in my room – whatever you want.” 

“What about Alicia?”

Ryan shrugged. “She’s fine. She wouldn’t want you walking home either. It’s almost three in the morning.”

Zoey nodded hesitantly. “Alright…” 

Ryan grabbed her beer bottle off the table and led her back inside. 

Alicia was on the couch waiting for them. “Hey,” she said when they walked in. She looked a little concerned. 

Zoey gave her a tight smile, and Ryan pressed a kiss to her lips. 

“Little Zee’s gonna stay here tonight,” he told her. 

“Of course,” she replied. She seemed a little ticked, but it's not like she could really say anything.

Zoey avoided her gaze. She was quiet as Ryan got a pillow and a blanket out of the linen closet for her.

“Is it okay if I sleep in here?” she asked, but she was talking more to Alicia than she was to Ryan.

“Sure,” Ryan said as Alicia nodded. 

Zoey gave them a tired smile. “Okay. Thank you.” 

They were all quick to get in bed. Ryan brushed his teeth and left a lamp on so he could read a little bit, but within twenty minutes, he was snoozing. Alicia leaned across him to flip off the lamp, and Zoey was surprised when Alicia spoke. 

“Are you worried about your brother?” she asked softly.

Zoey was quiet for a moment. “Yeah.”

“I understand.”

Zoey blinked in the darkness. 

“You do?”

“Yeah. Ava, my older sister? I know you probably don’t like her, but…” She sighed. “I love her. And she used to leave and go get high, and she’d be gone for, like, fucking weeks at a time, I didn’t know who she was with or… where she was living.”

She was quiet for so long that Zoey thought the conversation was over, and she’d shut her eyes again. Then Alicia continued. 

“The last time she did that, she moved to fucking Europe. And didn’t even tell me. She didn’t say goodbye. When I found out, I called her… I yelled at her… and then we didn’t talk for three months. I thought about her every goddamn day. And then she showed up here with no warning, claiming she wanted to see me, and we've spent maybe four hours together total since she got here.” 

Zoey knew Alicia couldn’t see her, but she was nodding.

“I know that… I know that she’s the one that did this to Jay.”

“No,” Zoey interrupted, “Jay’s his own person.”

“I know. I know he can make his own choices, but this wouldn’t be happening if it weren’t for her. And… I’m really sorry.”

“Thanks.”

A few quiet seconds passed.

“You know, can I ask you something?” 

“Sure.” 

“Do you really like Ryan?”

“Yeah, I do.” 

“Does he really like you?”

“Yeah, I think so.” A beat passed. “Why?” Zoey paused for so long that Alicia thought the younger girl might have fallen asleep, but now Alicia was curious. “Why?” she asked again. 

“I have this… he’s not like he used to be.”

“Is that good or bad?”

“I don’t know. We don’t talk that much anymore cause he’s always really fucking busy, but… I don’t know. We used to be really close. I mean, in some ways we still are; I know we’d both do just about anything for each other. But there are some things I want you to know about him.” 

Alicia was still as she listened. 

“He can be very demanding. And he’s not afraid to hurt people. When things are important to him, it’s like he has fucking tunnel vision – it’s all he can think about. So… he’s probably gonna do some things that are gonna make you really angry. But he’s also just like me.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean… you can see it in his eyes. We’re both the same.” 

“He seems fine.” 

Zoey didn’t explain, but she continued talking. 

“Jay never let me visit him while he was in prison. And I didn’t know why. Jay never visited him either, not after the first time. And I used to ask about him all the fucking time, ‘When’s Ryan coming home? When’s Ryan coming home?’ And Jay would tell me, ‘Not yet. It’s gonna be a long time.’ But I didn’t understand just how long five years was. It’s a long time to wait for a friend. Especially when you're twelve and you think he’s so great, you think he’s this fucking superstar… you feel so cool every time he looks at you.” 

“Why are you telling me this?” Alicia asked, back to a snappish tone. 

Zoey sighed quietly to herself. “Because… I just… want you to be careful.” She added, “He keeps a lot of secrets. I don’t know why, or what they are, but I also know that he has a really good heart.” She swallowed. “I never stopped trusting him. Never. I would trust him with my life.” 

“Really?”

“Yeah. I would. In a heartbeat. Just… be careful, okay?”

Zoey could hear Alicia’s pillowcase rustling as she nodded.

The girls were silent after that, and a few minutes later, Zoey finally drifted off to sleep. Alicia could hear her quiet breaths in the dark, and she turned on her other side to find Ryan staring up at the ceiling. She reached down for his hand, and he slowly turned her head to look at her. 

“Did you hear all that?” she asked. 

“Every word.” He shifted and picked his phone up off the nightstand, trying to lighten the mood. “I should text Nate, tell him she’s here.” 

Alicia didn’t mention the fact that she had already done that. She waited until his phone was safely back on the nightstand before shyly murmuring, “Do you really like me?” 

He smiled at her – she could see his teeth shining in the darkness. “I do.” As if he was teasing her, he asked, “Do you really like me?” 

She whispered back, “I do.”

They kissed, and Alicia slid under Ryan’s arm. He kissed her hair and shut his eyes.

 

* * *

 

 

Zoey woke up to sun streaming through the blinds. She got up as quietly as she could, folded her blanket, and crept out of the silent house. 

She escaped down to the beach. It was barely 9am and already hot as fuck, but even though she was in her sweats, she didn’t care. 

She spent the day there alone, ignoring two texts from Sky, one from Ryan, and three from Nate. She was fine; they’d figure that much out eventually. She shut her phone off and walked at least two miles in the sand. Eventually she found an area that was quiet enough, and she sat down several yards back from the water. She watched the tourists run around until the sun reached its highest point.

She got a pack of crackers from a beach bar using the five-finger discount and headed back to the beach.

She ate slowly, chewing each bite lazily in the hot August sun. 

School would be starting soon, and there would be fewer people to distract her, fewer boys to fuck. 

Speaking of boys to fuck –

“Hey,” came a voice. “Are you alright?” 

Zoey put a hand up to block the sun and looked up at him. He was shining with sweat and a little out of breath – yeah, he’d definitely been running.

“Yeah,” she answered shortly.

He chuckled a little at her bluntness. "You go to Navy Street, right?"

“Who are you?” she asked, a little nervous then.

“Don’t worry, I’m not a stalker,” he smiled. “I’m Adam. I’ve seen you around the gym.”

“Oh.” 

“Is it cool if I sit down a minute?” 

He was cute. And it’s not like she had a bunch of stuff to do. She couldn’t exactly say no. She shrugged in place of an answer. 

"What's your name?" he asked as he settled down in the sand.

"Zee."

"Like the letter?" he asked.

"It's Zoey. But everyone just calls me Zee."

“Ah," he said. It was clear he was trying to think of something else to say to her. She let him flounder, enjoying it a little bit. "Hey, did you hear about Alvey’s kid’s fight last night?” Adam inquired.

Zoey would have smiled if she'd felt up to it. “What happened?” she asked, playing clueless.

“He fucking destroyed the other guy.” Adam mimed a right hook. “Pow! Knocked him out cold.”

Zoey nodded. “Cool.”

“I wasn’t there or anything; it was pretty exclusive, I guess. But I read about it on the message boards. And somebody posted a video.” As if it just occurred to him, he asked, “Do you fight?” 

“Nah. I just spar a little bit. It’s a good workout.” 

Adam nodded. “I haven’t started fighting yet, but I want to.” 

Zoey raised an eyebrow. “Really?” He looked the type, but he certainly didn't act like it. Though she reminded herself that Nate didn't either, and look at him.

“I mean, yeah. It would probably be cool.” 

“Probably,” Zoey agreed sarcastically. “I haven’t seen you before. Are you new?”

“New to Navy Street. Not to LA. I came down here for college. I’ll be a sophomore this year.”

“Cal State?” she guessed.

“USC,” he corrected.

“Wow. Smart _and_ rich,” she deadpanned. She popped a cracker into her mouth. “Go Trojans,” she said flatly. 

He laughed. “I guess. Do I dare ask why you're dressed for winter?” 

She subconsciously tucked a strand of baby hair behind her ear. The rest of her hair was still nestled in the messy bun from last night. She was surprised he even recognized her, let alone came over to her; she probably looked homeless. “Rough night,” she responded airily. She popped the inside of her cheek as though it were a stick of gum. “You wanna fuck?”

He actually leaned back a few inches. “Um, no,” he said, looking bothered by the question. “No thanks.”

“It’s okay,” Zoey told him, “you don’t have to be shy.”

“No, I – I didn’t come over here for that. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I thought you were going to start crying or something. But I can go if you want me to.” 

She looked away. “I want you to.” 

He stood up immediately. “Alright. It was nice to meet you, Zee.” He walked for a few steps and then broke back into his jog. She watched him run until she lost sight of him behind a lifeguard tower.

 

* * *

 

When Zoey appeared back at Dad’s that night, Nate was downstairs in the kitchen eating at the table. 

“Where the hell have you been?” he asked angrily, abandoning his dinner to stand up and yell at her. “We’ve all been freaking the fuck out! I was going to call the police if you weren’t back by the morning.”

She didn’t bother to look at him as she started rifling through the cabinets, looking for food. “Well, I’m back, so you can chill the fuck out.”

Nate smacked her hand away from the box of Cheerios she was reaching for. “Zoey, we thought you ran away again. You go to Sky’s apartment, leave in the middle of the night, walk to Ryan’s house, say some weird shit about Ryan and Alicia’s relationship, and then fucking disappear? Then you ignore everybody calling and texting you all day? We thought you fucking ran away again," he repeated. "Do you have any idea what that was like?”

She was staring hard at the counter, trying not to let any tears well up. Her lip trembled dangerously. 

“Well, do you?” he demanded. When she didn’t answer, he said, “You have this fucking suicide contract with Sam now, and I’m – I don’t like it, okay? Every day I think you’re gonna be gone again, or you’re gonna be covered in blood, or I’m gonna walk into a room and find you hanging from a fucking ceiling fan!” 

Zoey dropped her elbows on the counter, hung her head, and burst into tears. “I’m sorry,” she sobbed. “Nate, I’m sorry.”

Nate took a slow breath and moved forward, wrapping an arm tightly around her back. “What the fuck is going on with you, huh?” he asked, bending down a little to see her face. 

“I don’t know,” she admitted.

He could feel her ribs moving with her sobs, and he felt guilty for yelling at her. Well, a _little_ guilty. She’d scared the shit out of him. And all their friends.

As if she could read his mind, she promised in a shaky voice, “I didn’t mean to scare you. It's just... I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Nate, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“It’s okay,” he muttered, not knowing what the fuck he was supposed to say.

She nodded and wiped her eyes, sniffing hard.

“I need to text everyone and tell them you came home,” he said as he let go of her. “They’ll want to know you’re okay.” 

She rubbed her nose on Sky’s sleeve and stood up straight again. 

“Did you get any sleep?” he asked as he pulled out his cell phone. 

“Actually, yeah.” 

He nodded. “Good.” He took the cereal box down from the cabinet and passed it to her. “Eat.”

“I had some crackers,” she supplied, but it sounded even more pathetic than it felt. Her breath hitched as she tried to suppress another sob.

“I’ll get you some fruit, too, okay?” he said, feeling like he needed to do something more to help. 

He really was just as good a big brother as Jay. She murmured, "Thanks, Nate."

He leaned against the counter where his sister had just been while he typed out several text messages. Zoey got a bowl and a spoon and poured some milk onto her cereal, and then she took it to the spot across from where Nate had been eating. Her older brother pocketed his phone and washed some strawberries from the fridge before grabbing a small plate for them. Just as he was about to bring them to her, his phone rang. 

He dug it out of his pocket. “Hey, man,” he said into it. “No, no, she’s fine. Yeah. Like three minutes ago.” He listened for a moment. “She got a ton of sun. I’m assuming she was at the fucking beach all day. Yeah.” He listened again. “Okay. Yeah, I will. Thanks, man. Yeah. I will. Kay. You, too. Bye.” 

He hung up and sighed again, sliding his phone away and taking the plate of fruit over to her. He stood behind her and set it down next to her, and she was surprised when he wrapped a hand around her forehead and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. Then he sat back down in his chair. “Don’t fucking do that again, okay?” he said softly. 

She nodded.

“Just text me that you’re fucking alive. I’m fucking serious, Zoey. That's all I'm asking for.” 

“I know,” she muttered. She stared down at the table and all the food in front of her as she tried to regain her appetite.

They sat in silence, each of them taking their time eating more slowly than usual. 

Nate was relieved that his sister was back, so relieved that he was barely even angry with her for leaving. He wasn’t sure he could make it through another year without her, especially with Jay like this. 

Zoey slowly crunched on her Cheerios and tried not to think about the way Nate kept rubbing at the tattoo on the inside of his wrist whenever he set his fork and knife down. She tried not to wonder if he’d been doing that all day. A new wave of guilt washed over her, and she blinked more tears out of her eyes. She'd never meant to hurt her family.

The brother and sister finished eating around the same time – or maybe Nate had paced himself so that he’d be taking his last bites as Zoey was taking hers. 

Zoey rinsed her bowl out and put it into the dishwasher with the plate and the spoon. She went upstairs and showered, and then she somehow found her way into Nate’s room to read. He was sitting on his bed with Abigail and working on something for the gym on his computer. He had on [some Pandora station](http://www.pandora.com/station/play/3419381837830784093) that was incredibly relaxing, and Zoey found herself drifting off to sleep against his dresser. 

Nate glanced at her just as she was losing consciousness. He got up and helped her to her feet, her book forgotten on the floor. She was too tired to protest being put on his soft bed; she just curled up, tugged his blanket over her shoulder, and shut her eyes.

Nate shook his head at Abigail and went back to his office work.


	10. Chapter 10

On Monday morning, Jay finally plugged his phone in. It had been off for nearly three days, but it buzzed to life with only one notification; a missed call from Sam Winchester. Jay sighed and clicked to the voicemail. He used to be much more popular than this. Even Nate and Zoey hadn’t called or texted to check on him. 

Jay rolled quietly onto his back since Ava was still sleeping. He wasn’t sure whether it was morning or night, but at that point, it didn’t really matter. 

“Hi, Jay, this is Sam Winchester. I was just calling to see if you’d heard from your sister today. She didn’t show up to her appointment this morning, and she’s not answering her phone. I’m a little concerned, because this isn’t like her. Please give me a call back if you hear anything from her. Thanks.” 

Jay rolled his eyes and shut the phone back off. Goddamn that girl. Nate could deal with her now, he was more than old enough. Why was Sam calling Jay anyway? Apparently Jay was ruining his sister’s life, or whatever. He couldn’t exactly remember what she’d yelled at him in the bathroom - he'd been too sick and high at the time - but he knew it was something dramatic like that. 

He was just closing his eyes and settling back to sleep when there were several sharp knocks at the door. 

Jay laid still, ignoring it.

The knocking intensified. God, it sounded like a cop. And Jay didn’t want to deal with that right then. He rolled over in bed, but the knocking didn’t stop.

“Who is that?” Ava groaned. 

Jay stood up without answering, heading to the door completely naked.

“Yeah?” he asked, flinging the door open. He squinted at the sunlight and his little brother. “Whoa. Dude, what time is it?” 

“Eight fifteen.” At Jay’s blank look, he added, “A.M.” 

Jay nodded. “Come in.”

“No. Jay, we've gotta talk. Put some clothes on.” 

Jay sighed and shut the door. Nate scrolled through his phone until Jay reappeared a few minutes later in casual clothes and a hat. He had a pair of sunglasses over his eyes to shield himself from the light.  
  
“What if I told you that it's cheaper to live here than to rent an apartment?” Jay asked as the two brothers walked back from the vending machine to his door. 

“Are you really gonna be that guy that lives in a fucking motel?” Nate replied, shaking his head. Jay had already gotten himself a breakfast of a Hershey bar and a soda, which Nate let slide without comment. But this? This was too much. 

“I do not live at the motel, Nathaniel, but it's nice to know that I could.” 

“You really need to start training again,” Nate said flatly. 

“I have time.” 

“You've got six weeks. Ryan's working hard.”

Jay tried to grin. “He should. He fucking lost.” 

“People are worried about you.” 

Jay sighed again. “I… I'm sorry for my condition at the fight, man. You know, we got started early and we just... We mixed the wrong shit and-”

“Ryan told Zebra that you're shooting heroin,” Nate interrupted.

Jay didn’t speak. 

Nate huffed angrily. “I don't get you.” 

“But you love me,” he grinned, poking Nate in the chest. He took a seat in the cheap folding chair. “You fucking love me.”

“So, what, that's it? You're just gonna piss everything away?” 

“Define ‘everything,’ Nathaniel.” 

Nate got in his face and ticked a list off on his fingers. “Your career, your family, the belt that you worked your ass off for-” 

“You want the belt? Maybe Zee wants the belt? Or Mom?”

“No, Mom wants you to fucking come home, Jay.”

“She said she wanted me to leave,” Jay muttered. 

“No, she said get clean or leave. You left.” 

“Why isn't she here?”

A dog barked in the distance as Nate stared as his brother silently. Is that what all this was about? _Mom?_ No fucking way.

“Jimbo,” Jay called, waving to a guy who had just pulled up in an old, worn out pick-up truck. “How're you doing?”

The guy nodded in lieu of an answer.

“Good. Alright. Looking good, feeling good,” Jay grinned. After the guy went into his room and shut the door, Jay dropped his voice. “Now, _that's_ a guy who lives in a motel. Hmm?”

“You know Zoey ran away after the fight? We couldn’t find her fucking anywhere,” Nate said, pulling Jay’s attention back to what was going on. “And when she finally came home the next night, the sun was already down and she was crying.” 

“Eh, she’s fine,” Jay replied, waving Nate off. 

“She’s getting worse, Jay, and I don’t know what the fuck to do. Sam called me yesterday morning and said she didn’t show up to therapy on Monday. She’s just sitting in the house staring at the walls, and I can’t fucking get her out of her bedroom. I put Abigail in there with her, but she didn’t even acknowledge the goddamn dog.”

Jay just shrugged. “Everyone has off days.” 

Nate snapped. “Okay, get up, grab your shit. Tell Ava to come. You guys are coming home. Mom said it's fine for her to be there, but you got to fucking get out of here, Jay. You hear what I'm saying?”

“I'm not going anywhere,” Jay drawled.

Nate bit his lip and looked away. He took a breath and leaned down so that his eyes were level with Jay’s. “You're gonna fucking die in here, and I need you. Zebra needs you, she’s gonna do something really bad. I can feel it. And I need you, Jay. I don’t know what I’m doing with the gym, and Zebra, and Mom, and Dad, and - and me, okay? I need you, Jay. Can you hear what I'm saying to you? I. Need. You. Please come home.”

“I'm gonna go inside...” Jay murmured, standing up.

“Jay,” Nate breathed, letting his fear and worry and pain show clearly on his face for the first time in months. He’d just bared his fucking soul, and that was it? Nothing? 

“... but I'm gonna call you.” 

“Jay! No, _Jay!_ ”

“I'm gonna call you,” he lied, and he disappeared into the motel room. 

Nate stood outside, shocked, until he heard the deadbolt slot into place. Then he slammed his fist into the bubblegum pink wall and climbed angrily into his car.

 

* * *

 

“You talking to someone?” Alvey asked.

Lisa had texted him that she was back in Los Angeles and wanted to meet up with him. Even with everything that had gone on that weekend, he couldn't say no. He missed her. And honestly, he was a little curious to see her and hear how she was doing. They met up at a fancy coffee shop/bar combo in the tourist side of town. 

“Yeah, uh, my dad found a psychiatrist that specializes in miscarriages. She's good."

“What'd she put you on?” 

“Klonopin four times a day, Wellbutrin, Ambien to sleep.” 

“Is it working?” 

“Yeah, but I think I want to cut back.” 

“Why?"

"It's just... it's a lot of pills.” 

He gave a weak smile. “Whatever gets you through the night, right?” He nodded at his own comment. “You look good.”

“Alvey, I look like shit," she sighed. "It'd be weird if I didn't.” 

“You don't look like shit.” 

“Okay, can you just stop?” she snapped. “I don't know, just don't be afraid of me.” 

“What?” 

“Just act normal.” 

“Now how the fuck am I supposed to do that?”

She sighed again. “I don't know, just try." She glanced longingly at the bar. "Maybe we should get drunk.”

Alvey scoffed. 

“I could seriously use some day drinking,” Lisa admitted. 

“Really?”

“Come on,” she smirked. “Buy me a drink.” 

“I wish,” Alvey sighed. “I, I got to train Ryan and Alicia today.” 

Lisa nodded, accepting his rejection. “How is the gym?” 

Alvey snorted. “The gym's a fucking mess.” 

“Why?”

“Uh, Ryan's fucking needy, drives me crazy. Unless he's fucking Alicia, and then _she_ drives me crazy.”

“Oh.”

“Jay's in the shitter.” 

That caught Lisa’s attention. “What's going on with Jay?” 

“He's hanging out with Alicia's fucking loser sister. These people have no life skills.” 

“Nate?” 

“Nate's good,” Alvey answered, smiling a little. “He takes care of himself.” 

“Zee?”

Alvey just shook his head. “It’s getting bad again.”

Lisa nodded slowly as she tried to understand what that might mean.

“I miss you,” Alvey confessed softly, his fingers finding hers on the table top.

“I miss you guys, too.”

The moment was over before it began, though, so Alvey continued with the gym update. “Alicia's doing good. She's showing up, putting in the work. Garo bumped a girl to put her on his card.” 

“You put her with fucking Garo?”

“Yeah. Why?” 

“I thought after that whole thing that happened with Ryan, you'd...?"

“No, no. What happened with Ryan was Ryan's fault, okay? I mean, Garo's a cunt, but this is a good card.” 

Lisa sat back in her chair. “No, you're right. I think this is... this is a huge step up for her.” 

“Yeah. And then after that, we have the, uh, Ryan and Jay rematch, assuming Jay lives.” 

“I'm ready to come back,” Lisa stated.

Alvey blanched.

“Whoa,” she said, putting her hands up, “don't act so thrilled.”

“No. I... I mean... You really think that you're ready?”

“That's what I just said.” At his expression, she asked, “What?” 

“Well, money's kind of tricky right now.” 

“When is it not?”

“It's worse,” he admitted. “I'm being sued.”

Lisa almost laughed. It never ended in Venice. “Why?”

“Uh, some dumbass on a bike. It's fucking stupid, but I'm gonna pay him a lot of money. The door's not swinging off the hinges at the gym, so I'm losing money there.”

“Okay, so, I'll take less off the top, but I want a guarantee.”

“Like what?” 

“Some ownership. Twenty-five percent.”

He was quiet for a moment. “Why do you want to jump back into this, Lis?”

“Cause I'm... I need to work. I'm tired of just sitting around and doing nothing.”

“I know. I know your instinct is to grab a hold of something.”

“Do you not want me back?” she asked. 

“I just don't know if it's the best thing for you right now.”

“Okay,” she muttered, hurt and angry. 

“I'm not saying no.” 

“No, it's just... not exactly the answer that I thought that I would get.”

“Well, let's... please, please. Let's not pretend that this is... is not complicated.”

“Of course it's complicated! But this needs to be a business decision first. So I'm gonna go back to my hotel, you're gonna think about it, and then you're gonna call me, and if the answer is no, then I'll go away.” 

“No, don't... Stop. Don't put it like that.” 

“That's how it is,” she said, trying to act flippant, “and it's okay. It's fine. Just let me know.”

She got up and headed out, and Alvey dropped his head into his hands. Fuck.

He peeked at the check in his wallet, the check that he still hadn’t cashed. That one piece of paper dictated his whole future. Fuck Ron, and fuck his money. Fuck him for making him choose like this. Fuck everything.

 

* * *

  

“What are you doing?” Ava asked quietly, watching Jay walk in circles around the motel room picking up clothes and trash.

“I'm just cleaning up a little bit.”

She sat back and was quiet until he grabbed his headphones and started lacing up his sneakers.

“Where are you going?” 

“I'm going out for a run.” 

“Have fun,” she said sarcastically, her lighter clicking as she lit up a cigarette. 

“I'm gonna be back in a bit,” he told her. He went through the door and shut it quietly behind himself. 

Ava tried not to think about the way he didn’t kiss her goodbye.

 

* * *

  

“Chelsea!” Christina called through Nate’s car window.

The girl was standing in the downpour with her sweatshirt hood pulled up. She’d found a sort of shelter against a wall in one of the parks. She rushed to the little blue car and hopped into the passenger seat as quickly as she could, a Mountain Dew in her hand.

“Hey! I'm so glad you called,” Christina gushed. 

“Is that okay?” the girl asked. “I just don't want to be out here tonight.” 

“Well, that's why I gave you my number,” Christina smiled.

“Well, just… you know. It's been a while, so I wasn't sure.” 

“It's no problem.” Christina glanced at the soda in her hand. “You shouldn't drink that stuff. Are you hungry?” 

Chelsea nodded. “Yeah.” 

“Alright. Let’s get you some food.”

The girls walked in the door to the sound of Nate’s video game. He froze on the couch when Christina showed up, and then he stayed frozen even longer when his eyes landed on a wet girl with greasy, too-long blonde hair. 

“Oh. Hi. I didn't know you were home,” Christina blurted. “I thought you were at your dad’s house.” She motioned to the girl. “This is Chelsea. Chelsea, this is my son, Nate.”

“Hey,” she said shyly.

Nate nodded. 

“Um, you can just put your stuff in that room over there,” Christina said, pointing at Nate’s room.

His eyebrows shot up.

“Thanks,” Chelsea said. 

“Who the fuck is she?” Nate demanded. 

“It's Chelsea. I met her in rehab.” 

“Why is she here?” 

“It’s just for a night or two. She has no place to go.”

Nate scoffed. “So you think it's a good idea to bring a junkie into our house?” 

“No, but it's better than a young girl sleeping alone on the street,” she replied airily. “Did you see Jay?”

“Yeah.” 

“And?” 

“He's not coming home.”

“Why not?”

“He just won't.” Nate sighed. “Maybe you should talk to him." At her nervous face, he asked, "What are you afraid he's gonna say?” 

“Nothing.” 

“Well, then, go see him.”

Christina shook her head. “He doesn't listen to me, Nate.”

“Bullshit,” he spat. “ _You_ just don't want to listen to _him_.” 

“Oh, give me a break.” 

“No. He's like this cause of you.” He shot her a stony glare. “You're worse than Dad.” 

A high voice interrupted them. “I'm sorry. Um, would it be okay if I took a shower?”

“Of course! I'll just get you a towel,” Christina chirped, glad for an escape. It had seemed like Nate had been going easier on her lately, but now with Jay the way he was, Christina had to magically be the bad guy again. Figured.

 

* * *

 

“How was your run?” Ava asked when Jay got back. 

“Fucking... it was painful.” 

“There are better ways to spend your time.” 

“Yeah?”

“So, um… what does your brother want?” 

“He wants me to start training,” Jay answered.

“Are you?”

“I got to fight,” he told her.

“What am I gonna do here all day?” she whined. 

“Why don't you come to the gym? You can watch me work out.” He shadow boxed a little and said, “Pow pow! Mm? Might turn you on a little bit.” 

“No.” 

He raised his eyebrows. “No?” 

“I'm not just gonna follow you around.” 

“I'm not saying follow me around, lady-bear. _I'm_ gonna follow _you_. I'm gonna follow you... follow _you_ around.”

“Lady-bear?” she repeated.

“Yeah,” he grinned. “You know where that honey pot's coming, stealing pies from the windowsill. Rawr.”

She didn’t smile, but his spirit wasn’t squashed in the slightest.

 

* * *

 

“I've read that book,” Keith noted, coming up to Ryan outside. 

Night had fallen, and Ryan was reading under the glow of an orange streetlamp. 

“The Bible?” Ryan confirmed. 

“Yeah,” Keith responded as he settled into a chair a few feet away from Ryan. “A couple times.”

“Well, I- I've never read it straight through,” Ryan supplied. 

Keith gave a little smile. “You are in for a treat, Ryan. What part are you on?” 

“Job.” 

Keith nodded thoughtfully. “Job is a tough one. Wait til you get to the New Testament. There's, like, a lot of... pain. And redemption. Now, with the Jesus story... it's insane. He has these 12 friends who... they start out as fishermen, but by the end of it, they can, like, perform miracles and shit. These guys are ridiculous.”  
  


* * *

 

“Morning, sweetie,” Christina chirped at Nate the next day as she and Chelsea sat at the table munching on breakfast. 

“Morning,” Nate replied dismissively, stalking right past them to the door. 

“Do you have time to eat?” 

“No. Got to go see Zebra and then get to the gym.” 

Nate walked down the driveway and climbed into his car. There was a Mountain Dew that was definitely not his sitting on the floorboard of the passenger seat. Every time it rolled around, he ground his teeth and gripped the steering wheel tighter.

He pulled up into Dad’s driveway and went inside through the sliding glass door. Abigail flew up to him on her three feet, her face up against his right knee before he even got the door open. He got inside, shut the door, and then crouched down to scratch her behind the ears.

“Hey, Ab,” he said softly as he looked into her one eye. “You taking care of my little sister? Is she upstairs?” 

She just happily licked his chin, her tail wagging frantically at him. He wiped the slobber off but kept petting her for a moment before starting to look around. There were no other signs of life downstairs, so he headed up to Zoey’s room with Abigail at his heels. He had the dog sit when he got into the hallway, because he could feel that Zoey was in no mood for an animal bounding into her personal space. Abby didn’t seem to mind.

Nate knocked and opened the door without waiting for a response. He found his sister buried under her blankets, awake but not moving. She looked at him briefly between heavy-lidded eyes before shutting them again. 

“Get up,” Nate said sharply. “Come on. I let you stay in bed yesterday, but not today.”

She showed no sign of hearing him. 

“You wanna come to the gym with me? I’ll let you pick something out from the vending machine,” he tempted. “Fucking anything you want. My treat.” 

She remained perfectly still.

“Zebra, come on.”

No response.

Nate sighed. “Sam called me,” he said, sitting down at the edge of her bed. “He said you didn’t go to therapy on Monday. Which I find kind of funny, cause it seems like you need it now more than fucking ever.” 

Nate looked into the heap of blankets at his sister’s closed eyes. He reached in to feel her forehead, but her temperature seemed normal.

“Zebra, you’re freaking me the fuck out,” he muttered after a moment. “Did something else happen? I mean… should I call somebody? Do you want me to call Sam?”

She shook her head, just barely, but it was enough for Nate to catch.

“Well what’s wrong?”

She shook her head again. _Nothing._

Nate sighed. “Look at me,” he ordered. “I’m not going away until you look at me.”

She tiredly pried open her eyes. 

“If you start to feel any worse, you call me. Okay? Or Sam, or Dad, or whoever the fuck you want. You have to call us, okay?”

She shut her eyes.

“Okay?” he demanded. “Zebra?” 

There was a shift in the blankets, and then Zoey’s pinkie slowly emerged. Normally, he would have cracked a smile, but she really was scaring the shit out of him acting like the way she was. He wrapped his little finger tightly around hers and squeezed. And then he let go, leaning down to press a kiss into her hair. “I’ll see you later, okay?” 

It felt like every time he saw her could be the last.

He walked quietly out of the room, down the stairs, and to the sliding glass door. He looked at Abigail standing sadly on the kitchen floor, pouting up at him as if she were begging him not to leave. He remembered when Zoey used to look at him like that. So even though Dad was probably going to kill him, Nate grabbed Abigail’s leash and led her to his car. 

Off to the gym they went.

He pulled up a few minutes later, rap music blaring from his car, and was shocked to see his older brother sitting outside, wrapping his hands. Ava, of course, was perched next to him, looking sullen as ever. Nate got out of the car, holding the door open until Abigail hopped out.

“Hey,” Jay said as Nate walked up. He leaned down to pet Abigail, who trotted right up to the couch and jumped on it, excited to see Jay after so long. She nestled against his side. “So, after you dropped by, I reviewed my calendar, and sure as shit, my fight's coming up real quick.” 

Nate nodded, tucking his hands into his sweatshirt pocket. “What do you want to get into?” he asked, trying not to let his relief show on his face. 

Jay imitated beating someone up. “I want to get into that cage, knock some rust off, you know?”

“Alright,” Nate said, holding his fist up for Jay to bump. Abigail followed him as he headed inside.

“He's over the moon,” Nate heard Jay say just after he disappeared.

And in some ways, it was true. Things weren’t perfect, but at least one of his siblings was getting their shit together. That was all he could ask for.

 

* * *

 

Unbeknownst to Nate, Zoey had been planning to drag her ass out of bed all along. She had a therapy session with Dad and Dr. Kramer at 2, and even though she didn’t want to get up and do anything, she was too curious to miss out on what he had to say. Plus, she felt a little guilty that Sam had been worried enough about Zoey to call Nate. Or maybe he was just angry with her.  
  
But either way, Zoey had decisions to make about her future – like whether there would be one – and today was a huge factor.

Zoey forced herself into the shower but couldn’t quite manage to reach up and shampoo her hair. She just stood under the warm water and remembered how cold the water was at Ellen’s. At least there she had purpose. Here she was just causing problems.

Once she got out and dried off, she put on her softest tank top and her favorite pair of jean shorts. She only cared enough to finger-comb her hair into a ponytail, put a few new slices into her wrist, and bike down to the office with a zip hoodie tied around her waist and a piece of folded notebook paper stuck into her back pocket. 

Since she’d taken her bike instead of getting one of her brothers to drive her, she was a few minutes late to the appointment. She tugged the sweatshirt on in the parking lot and headed inside, not bothering to sign in. Although she opened the office door without knocking or smiling, Alvey and Dr. Kramer both looked glad to see her. 

“Hi, Zoey,” Dr. Kramer greeted. 

“Hi, Zo,” Alvey said. It seemed almost a bit forced, but it was kind of nice that her dad actually said hello to her. 

“Hi,” she replied. Her voice came out a little scratchy – that was the first word she’d said in nearly two days.

“How are you doing?” Dr. Kramer asked.

“Good,” she lied. She looked at the therapist when she said it, though, and he didn’t seem to notice anything.

“Alright, good, good. Well, did you both bring your letters?” 

Alvey held his up, and Zoey nodded. 

“Alright. Who wants to go first?”

Neither Kulina said a word.

Dr. Kramer just waited.

They were both silent. Seconds ticked by slowly as each waited for the other to step up and volunteer, but neither did. Ten seconds, and then twenty. Thirty.

At thirty-five, Alvey caved, sighing, “Fine, fine. I’ll go.” 

Dr. Kramer nodded. 

He awkwardly cleared his throat. “Dear Zoey,” he read. “I’m gonna be completely honest with you. When you were born, I didn’t know what to do. Your mom was already mentally checked out, but I wasn’t. I did want you. You weren’t exactly planned, but I did want a daughter.

“It was fun at first, letting Nate and Jay pick out little hair bows and pink socks and all that shit. But my life was insane, kids or no kids. You know that. So I let Jay take care of you for me, because he was so good with you, and his heart was so much bigger than mine was. I was too caught up in my job. I should have done better.

“Jay moved you guys out because living with me was just too fucking hard. That was all on me. I’m sorry it came to that, and I’m sorry that I didn’t try to stop it. But at the time I thought it was right, because you and Nate seemed so happy with him, and you both always behaved. Jay was a good father to you two. I’m glad you were able to see him like that, even if it felt wrong sometimes when I watched it. I knew you would never love me as much as you loved your brothers.”

Zoey swallowed. 

“That’s still true now. But I’m glad that we’re doing this because I want us to have a good relationship. I know you’ve had a really tough time lately, and it’s hard for me to watch. I hope I can be there for you if you want me to be.”

He looked up at her, finished, but Dr. Kramer cleared his throat to get Alvey’s attention.

“Read the end,” he said, pointing at the bottom of Alvey’s piece of paper.

“Oh,” Alvey said uncomfortably. “Um. Love, Dad.” 

Zoey gave a small smile, as much of one as she could muster. It did mean something to her that he’d put that there. And that he’d acknowledged some of the things that she felt he’d left out before. But now it was her turn, and she was nervous. While she wrote, she’d kept in mind he’d be hearing her words, but it was hard not to let her true feelings tumble out onto the paper.

She was unfolding her note nervously when she suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to say something to her father. She let herself say it.

“I love you.”

The words hung in the air for a moment before Alvey responded. “I love you, too, Zo.”

Zoey didn’t smile, just nodded and cast her eyes down to her paper. She’d written ‘Dear Daddy,’ but she knew she couldn’t start it that way. She was too old. 

“Dear Dad,” she said softly. “I used to be angry with you for what you did to our family, but I’m tired of being angry. I tried to understand it on my own, and after I heard what you had to say, I understood a little better. That didn’t make it hurt any less.

“I think about you every day, whether I see you or not. Even when I was at the shelter, I thought about you every day. I had a whole life there, but I thought about home all the time. Honestly, I wasn’t sure whether I would come back or not. But I did. And you didn’t seem glad to see me.” 

She surprised herself by choking up. 

“The first thing you did was try to take Nate away from me. And that proved to me that you don’t know me at all.” 

She stopped for a moment to try to control her emotions like Sam had taught her. Dr. Kramer held out a box of tissues for her, but she ignored him and continued as best she could with her wobbly voice.

“I’m so angry at you for so many things, and I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to forgive you. But if I can make things any better than they are, I want to. There are so…” She took a shaky breath. “There are so many bad things going on in my life right now, and I…” 

She buried her face in her hands. “I’m sorry,” she said weakly, more tears falling down her cheeks. “I don’t know what’s going on.” 

“It’s perfectly alright,” Dr. Kramer assured her.

She could hear some movement, and she thought maybe Dr. Kramer was going to hand her the tissues again, but what she felt instead was a weight sinking down on the other couch cushion. And then strong arms wound their way around her. She’d know her father’s embrace anywhere.

Alvey didn’t speak, just held her in a hug. She let herself lean into him, and he cupped a hand behind her head to keep her still. She felt safe.

“I’m so tired,” she whispered to him, unable to stop the quiet sobs leaving her chest and making their way into his t-shirt. 

“I know,” he said back.

His voice sounded the way it did when he talked to Nate, and she was thankful for that. Part of her wanted to squirm away, but most of her never wanted him to let go. God, every fucking time he did this, it was like she was a little kid again. All she wanted was for Daddy to love her. She was so fucked up.

She slowly stopped crying, and when she could tell she was done, she sat up. 

“You alright?” Alvey asked, and he actually sounded concerned.

She nodded, sniffing. “Yeah.” She forced a laugh. “Sorry about that.” 

“It’s good for you,” Dr. Kramer told her. “For both of you. Showing emotion is good, and reacting to the other’s emotion is good. These are big steps.” 

“I don’t think it was a step,” Zoey admitted, smiling a little pessimistically. “I think I’m just a fucking disaster.” 

“You could have stopped talking,” Dr. Kramer pointed out, “or you could have left the session entirely. You didn’t.” 

“I didn’t have a choice,” she muttered. 

“You always have a choice,” Dr. Kramer told her.

She shrugged. 

“Can you finish your letter?” he asked.

“Yes,” she replied, swallowing thickly. “There are so many bad things going on in my life right now, and I don’t want my relationship with you to be one of them anymore. I hope we can start to pay more attention to each other and to be nicer. Those are my goals for the next few weeks. Zoey.”

She looked up at Dr. Kramer and nodded, signaling that she was done. 

“Very nice,” he encouraged. “I know that wasn’t easy for either of you, but you handled that very well. And there were no interruptions, so that’s great. I’m not sure whether you’ve realized this, but you do both respect each other’s thoughts and feelings. And you both seem to have a great understanding of the reasons for them. So we’re in a better place than you probably realize. Did anyone want to ask any questions or have anything else to say?” 

They were both quiet.

“Alright. This week, I want you to both be kinder to each other. We’re going to start off simply – I just want you to personally greet each other every time you see one another. Even if you’re walking into a room, I want you to individually greet the other person. Alright? Same goes for partings. Before you leave, say goodbye to each other.” 

They nodded. 

“Okay. Let’s play with the beach ball for a few minutes, and if it goes well, I’ll let you both go a little early today. How does that sound?”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **//major cutting tw for the beginning of this chapter//**  
>  if you don't like medical stuff, there are a couple sentences throughout that are a little gross.

Nate woke from sleep to a biting pain in his wrist. He dazedly sat up, flipping on his light and looking down at his skin. It seemed fine. He was still in the haze of sleep, so he looked over slowly when Zoey burst in. She was clutching at her arm, and her eyes were wide with fear. 

“Nate,” she gasped, her face pure panic. “Nate, I did something bad.” 

That had his attention. He blinked a few times, clearing his mind. “You cut again?” he asked.

She nodded. “It’s fucking deep,” she said. “I didn’t mean to do it that bad, Nate, I fucking swear. I didn’t mean to.”

“Let me see.” 

She swallowed, embarrassed. She didn’t want to let him in, but she didn’t know what else to do. “It’s bad,” she warned hesitantly. 

“Okay,” he said. Truth be told, she was scaring him. She’d never come to him like this. But she was here now, and she needed help. She looked terrified. What the hell was he supposed to do, say no? Call Dad? No fucking way.

Two fat drops of blood raced down her arm, all the way to her elbow, while she waited for him to give her some sort of direction. She looked a little pale.

He motioned her over. “Just let me see.” 

She sat down on the bed with him and let him pull her hand away from her wrist. At the sight of all the blood she’d been concealing, his eyes widened. “Holy fucking _shit_ ,” he whispered before he could stop himself. He looked up at her, suddenly just as terrified as she was. “Holy _shit,_ Zebra.”

Her eyes filled with tears, but she didn’t let them spill.

He got up, yanked a pair of boxers around his hips, and went into the bathroom next to his room. He came back a moment later with a roll of toilet paper. He ripped off several squares and handed them to Zoey. “Put pressure on that. I’ll be right back.” 

He disappeared to the guest room and opened the drawer where he and Alvey had hidden all the medicine and first aid supplies. He sifted through it until he found Neosporin, gauze, and an extra large Band-Aid. He returned to find his sister with a blood-soaked wad of tissue against her wrist. 

He took a seat right next to her and gently moved her arm toward himself. He tried to look at the injury like it was a cut from fighting in the octagon, not something Zee had inflicted on herself. He glanced at the clock on his nightstand – just past 2 AM on Thursday. He wiped the blood gently off her skin with more toilet paper, but it kept coming. Still, he did the best he could.

“Does it hurt?” he asked softly, not taking his eyes off what he was doing. 

“No,” she murmured. 

 _It should hurt like fuck,_ he thought, but he didn’t respond. His fingers were gentle on her skin, and she was grateful for that. 

He cleaned the wound, and once he got the blood to stop pooling for a moment, he took a good look inside it. He swallowed thickly. “Zoey, we need to go to the ER.” 

She looked at him with wide eyes and tried to pull her arm back. “What? No!” 

“Yeah.”

“Fuck no. I’m not going.” 

“You need stitches. This is… this isn’t some scratch, okay? It’s fucking huge. See that yellow stuff in there?” he asked, pointing at her wound. "Those bubbles?"

She nodded. 

“That’s fat tissue. If you got that far down, we have to go to the hospital. It’s fucking _way_ too deep. You need stitches.” 

“Can’t you just put those little butterfly strips on it?” she asked frantically. 

“That’s just to hold you over until you can get medical help. You know that.”

Her stomach was twisting. “Nate, I can’t. I can’t.”

He looked at her silently.

“I can’t,” she whispered, frightened tears flooding her eyes again.

He sighed. “Let me wrap it up and we’ll call Sam, okay?” 

She shook her head. How the hell was she going to get out of this? “If you call Sam, he’s not gonna let me see him anymore,” she said brokenly, her tears spilling over. “They’ll put me in the hospital. I don’t want to go! Nate, I’m so sorry. I’ll do anything. I’ll do _anything_! It wasn’t supposed to be this bad, I swear. I wasn’t trying to kill myself, I just wanted to-”

“Stop,” he muttered, turning away as he tried to ignore her crying. 

This was fucking serious. He couldn’t just let her go back to her room like this. God knows what she’d do in there. But… what if it was worse if he tried to get her help? Say they put her in a psych ward somewhere and wouldn’t let her out. That would be good for her, right? But she would hate him. And she’d probably never speak to him again. And maybe she’d hurt herself more. He couldn’t have that.

He needed her just as much as she needed him. Maybe he didn’t let it show that often, but god, if Zoey was gone, Nate would be left completely alone. Jay had stopped caring, Dad never had, and Zoey was literally going insane. But at least Nate had her around. And sometimes she was normal, anyway.

If he took her to the ER, Sam would definitely terminate her treatment with him, and that would be devastating for Zoey. It would be a pain in the ass trying to get that kid to see another doctor, and then they’d be back to square one. She’d be in more pain with no one to help her. 

Nate sighed and dropped his head into his hand. He crouched down in front of her and rested an arm across her knees. “Give me everything you’re using to hurt yourself,” he ordered, “and you have to swear to fucking _god_ that you won’t cut anymore. Ever, Zoey. If this ever happens again...” 

“I fucking swear,” she rushed out. “I swear, Nate, I swear to god. I swear. I swear.” 

Nate pushed her words out of his mind as he sopped up as much of the blood as he could and then he smeared Neosporin all over the wound. Zoey winced, but he didn’t let her pull away. He wrapped her arm a few times with gauze and then laid the Band-Aid across the top, securing the cotton. Then he pulled her into his side for a much-needed hug.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she babbled. 

He wanted to shush her, but he’d read online not to, even gently. He rubbed her shoulder and let her sob into his chest as he tried not to give into her overwhelming emotions and let his own tears well up. He clenched his jaw and held her tighter; he was pretty sure if he started crying, he’d never stop.

“What’s wrong with me?” she whispered. 

“You’re depressed as fuck,” Nate answered simply. He was pretty sure she was being rhetorical, but he didn’t give a fuck. She needed the truth. “You were raped, and now you’re traumatized. You’ve been running from it for more than a fucking year, but it caught you.” 

She forced herself to quiet as she sat up and looked at her older brother. “Are you mad at me?”

He raised his eyebrows a little. “For what, the cutting?” 

She nodded.

“No.”

Quiet filled the room, and just as Zoey was starting to truly calm down, Nate added, “But I can’t keep doing this for you.” 

She nodded, shame taking over. “I didn’t know what the fuck to do,” she said hopelessly. “I got scared.”

“No, not… not that I don’t want to fucking help you. You did the right thing coming to wake me up. But we need to figure out how the fuck you can start getting better, because you can’t live like this. Zoey, _I_ can’t fucking live like this. Okay? I’m scared as shit all the time. All I fucking do anymore is worry about you and Jay. But especially you.” 

Zoey stared at the carpet.

“It’s not your fault, okay? Just. I know you’re thinking about doing bad stuff. I can feel it. You’ve _got_ to talk to Sam about it, cause Zebra… I’m not a doctor. I don’t know how the fuck to make you feel better.”

She nodded. She understood, but it stung. She’d take her brothers over a million therapists any day of the week. 

Nate softly cleared his throat. “Dad told me he was gonna talk to you about starting medicine. Did he ever…?” 

Zoey shook her head. 

“Let’s make some phone calls tomorrow, okay? See what we can do.”

She didn’t move. 

He started to threaten her. “We can go to the ER now, or-” 

“Okay,” she interrupted hurriedly. She didn’t sound committed to the idea, but at least he was able to force her into agreement to seek some form of treatment.

“I need you safe,” he said quietly, echoing some words Jay had said to him a few months prior. 

She leaned forward and wrapped her arms around his neck. 

He turned his head and kissed her hair right above her ear, relieved that she wasn’t angrier at him. He tapped her Band-Aid lightly with one finger. “No more of this, alright?” 

“Alright,” she whispered back.

She pulled back from him a moment later and slid toward his pillows without asking. She knew there was no way in hell he was going to let her go back into her room that night.

Nate flipped off the light. They both got under Nate’s plaid quilt and laid down facing each other. They were quiet for a while, just taking time to get comfortable and try to relax. 

“You’re my best friend, Nate,” Zoey said softly. She knew that he knew that; of course he did, she’d told him a million times, but she needed him to hear it again.

“You, too,” he replied.

She nodded.

He stayed still until she fell asleep, and then he sat up to grab his cell phone. He had to wipe his hands off on the sheets before he could type anything, because his fingers were sticky with his little sister's blood. He tried not to think too much about it. He texted Ryan and wrote, _Text me in the morning. I need some advice._

 

* * *

 

Nate made scrambled eggs in the morning and sat with Zoey on the couch while they watched some TV. He drove her to her appointment with Sam and dropped her off. Then it was off to meet Ryan for a late lunch. 

They grabbed burritos at a stand by the pier, and Ryan led Nate up to one of the old lifeguard towers where he used to hide out and get high with Jay. 

“What’s going on, man?” Ryan asked. “You look fucking…” He waved his hand in lieu of words. 

Nate huffed a little and shook his head. “My sister,” he said, putting his food down. He had no appetite anyway.

Ryan leaned forward. “What’s going on? Is she okay?”

“No,” Nate answered shortly. “Fucking far from it. She, uh. She came in my room last night gushing blood.”

Ryan stared at him unblinkingly. “She cut?”

“Yeah. Bad. It’s like… it’s fucking huge. We looked at it again this morning, and it looks worse than I fucking thought it would.” He shook his head again. "It's at least a centimeter thick, and it doesn't look like any of her other ones. It's..." He shook his head. "It's huge."

“Where is she right now?” Ryan asked urgently. 

“She’s at therapy,” Nate told him.

“Good,” Ryan replied, his shoulders relaxing a little.

“Yeah, and I’m gonna pick her up, so… But what the fuck do I do, man?”

“Well, therapy is a good start,” Ryan said, taking a bite of his burrito. “Did you get all her stuff out of her room?” 

“I’m going to. I don’t know what she’s using, though.” 

“It doesn’t matter,” Ryan said. “Anything sharp. Anything that could be a weapon. When I was in college, I used to cut myself with a compass for fucking math class.” 

Nate stared at the ocean and tried not to think about how much that would hurt. “How do I make her stop?” he asked quietly. 

“Nate… you can’t. She has to choose it on her own.” 

“Well, why won’t she?” 

Ryan sighed. “It’s different for everyone. But it feels good, and it sounds like she’s not coping other ways.”

“She used to journal,” Nate muttered. “What the fuck happened to that?”

Ryan watched the middle Kulina warily. He looked _exhausted._ He was fucking worried about the kid, almost as worried as he was about the other two. “Nate… how are _you_ doing, man?”

“I’m fine.”

“I don’t believe that for a fucking second,” Ryan responded, but his voice was kind. “You’ve got way too much on your plate.”

“I can handle it,” he argued, his eyes snapping up to Jay’s best friend.

“It’s a lot,” Ryan replied. “Whether you can handle it or not, it’s got to be… scary.” 

Nate shrugged and glanced at the time on his phone. “I gotta go,” he lied. “Got to go pick up Zebra.” 

“Nate,” Ryan said quietly. 

“I gotta go,” he repeated firmly, getting to his feet. “Thanks for lunch.” 

Ryan let him go but called to him as he started down the ladder. “Nate!” 

Nate stopped climbing and looked over. 

“You fucking call me if it gets bad, alright?” 

Nate swallowed and then nodded. With Jay gone, Ryan was the only one Nate could go to for help.

 

* * *

 

“Are you planning to just sit there silently the whole session?” Sam asked. “Cause that’s fine with me. I have a lot of paperwork to do.” 

Zoey kicked her feet back and forth and didn’t speak.

“I know you can talk,” he tried. “I heard you saying goodbye to Nate when you came in the door.” 

No response. 

Sam sighed. “Alright. I can’t make you talk to me, but I also can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s going on. I’m not a mind reader.” He smiled a little to himself. “Although… my job would be a thousand times easier if I was.”

Zoey’s expression didn’t change. 

Sam studied her for a moment; she didn’t look particularly different than normal. She was in a Navy Street zip hoodie with her dark, wavy hair hanging carelessly by her face and down her shoulders. Black eyeliner, jean shorts, Converse, and a million jelly bracelets peeking out of the cuff of her sweatshirt. Even her posture was the same.

“Okay, Zee. I’m gonna start some of my work. Let me know if you change your mind.” 

Two minutes slowly ticked by with only the sound of shuffling paper and the low hum of the air conditioner. Six minutes. Then ten. Fifteen. Thirty. Thirty-five.

Zoey reached up to tuck her hair back behind her ear – or at least that’s what Sam thought she was doing. He glanced up to make sure she was alright, but what he was met with surprised him. 

“What are you thinking about?” he asked, sitting still as not to spook her.

Tears were running slowly down her cheeks, and she’d reached up to smear them away with her sleeve. That’s what he’d seen. She shrugged and stared harder at the carpet. 

“Zee…” He set down his pen and moved away from the desk to his usual chair. 

“I can’t tell you,” she whispered. Her hand moved up to cover her mouth, and she leaned forward a little, crying quietly to herself. 

“Yes, you can,” Sam encouraged. “Let me help you.”

She shook her head. “No, you don’t understand. I really can’t tell you. I…”

"Did someone hurt you?" he inquired.

"No."

He was pretty sure she’d violated the contract, but he didn’t speak, just passed her the box of Kleenx that he kept on his desk. She accepted them and wiped her tears. She then rubbed her makeup off as best she could without seeing what she was doing.

“You’re very upset,” Sam said carefully. 

“No shit,” she huffed. She tried to sound tough, but the weak sob that followed her words proved her anything but.

“About what?” 

“I already said, I can’t tell you,” she said, starting to get angry.

“Zee-” 

“I’m fine!” she yelled.

Sam gave her a moment to calm down. When he felt she had, he said quietly, “I was going to ask you again why you didn’t come in on Monday.”

“Didn’t feel like it,” she said emotionlessly, wiping her cheeks with a dry tissue.

“Well, that’s not very adult of you,” he told her frankly.

She shot him an icy glare. 

“I only say that because it seems like you can’t decide whether you want to be treated as a child or an adult. Which isn’t necessarily a bad thing. You’re at a stage in your life where you’re quite literally between those ages. But your actions don’t seem to be between; they’re almost always polarized one way or the other.” At her blank expression, he continued. “You seem to want your father to treat you as an adult. The two of you have stepped up and begun family therapy, yes?” 

Zoey nodded. 

“That’s an extremely mature thing to do. I was very impressed with you when you shared that with me. It shows you’re willing to work on hard things and not just ignore them, which is a big part of getting older. But when it comes to your brothers, you still reach out to them for comfort and protection as if you were a child.” 

Zoey thought guiltily of the night before when she’d burst into Nate’s room. 

“You’ve mentioned that you wake them up when you have nightmares, they drive you places because you don’t have a license, you often sleep in the same bed with them… these are examples of ways that you haven’t grown up yet.” 

That did get Zoey angry. 

“The relationships you share with Jay and Nate are clearly important to you, and they’re special and unique in their own way. And again, I’m not saying that these things are negative. They’re just things I’ve noticed.” He shifted back to the original question. “So, when you didn’t show up for treatment on Monday, what was going on?”

She shrugged. 

Sam sat back a little in his chair. “I can’t make you talk,” he repeated, “but I promise you, Zee; you’re going to leave the session feeling worse if you don’t get any work done at all.”

“I just didn’t want to fucking come in, okay?” she said bitterly, her voice a little too loud. “I couldn’t get out of bed. Alright? Is that what you wanted to hear? Because that’s the truth. I kept looking at the clock, and I just couldn’t fucking do it.”

Sam nodded. “Tell me more about that.”

“I don’t know – there’s nothing else.”

“Were you reading or watching TV? Did Nate or your father know about it?”

“No, I was just laying there. I couldn’t do anything. I didn’t _want_ to do anything. And I mean, Nate knew I felt bad, but he was at the gym. He didn’t know I didn’t come here til you called him. My dad doesn’t care. He’s got a new girlfriend, so he hasn’t been home all week.” Zoey looked away as her eyes filled with tears again. “He doesn’t love Lisa anymore.” She broke down into sobs – she hadn’t even realized she was so upset about that. “Everything is so bad,” she sobbed. “I mean, it’s not that bad, but... it’s so bad. Like, I know it could be so much worse. But I don’t have Jay anymore; he doesn’t love us. And Lisa left, and her baby died, and Nate’s afraid of me, and - I don’t know. I’m so tired.” 

Sam’s eyes widened. “Her baby died?” he echoed.

Zoey nodded, more tears leaking from her eyes. She couldn't seem to stop them. “She had a late-term miscarriage. And she didn’t come home, and my fucking dad didn’t go see her, and… and she won’t answer the phone… She must be so sad. We all called her, but she didn’t pick up.”

“When did this happen?” Sam asked, his voice laced with concern. 

Zoey shrugged. “A couple weeks after she left LA.”

“So, recently,” Sam said, flipping back through his notepad. “Yeah… June?” 

She nodded. “Remember when we had that family session with Nate and Jay?”

“Of course.”

“My dad told us that afternoon when we got back to the gym.” 

“Zoey, I’m so sorry,” Sam said sorrowfully. 

She nodded. “Thanks,” she replied, swiping at her nose. 

“And Zee… you don’t have to worry about how what you’re dealing with compares to other people are going through.” 

“I know,” she said, her voice small. She pointed at his clock. “It’s past my time.” 

“This is important.” 

She shook her head. “I’m done talking.”

Sam pursed his lips, a little upset. They were right in the middle of a great breakthrough. “Are you sure? I really don’t mind.”

She shook her head. “I want to go home.” 

"Alright."

Sam stood up and walked her to the door. Nate was waiting anxiously on the other side, but Zoey walked straight past him without so much as a glance.

Nate looked up at Sam and nodded, a cross between a greeting and a thank-you. Sam nodded back, wishing he could do more. He hoped Zoey would survive until their session the next Monday.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you're triggered by self harm or don't like medical stuff, this is not a chapter for you. (though imo this medical stuff is not nearly as bad as sunday's. just a lot of blood.)

Zoey snuck over to the little house to get some things from Nate’s room without Christina seeing. She was glad to see that none of the cars were parked out front, but she was a little surprised to hear music coming from out by the pool.

She went through the front door as not to be seen and peeked out the kitchen window – there were three people in the back, lounging in the chairs. They looked young, maybe late teens or early twenties. Zoey saw Christina banging through the back gate and saying something to the girl, so Zoey figured it was under control. She darted back to Nate’s room, trying to get in and out before Christina came inside. She realized quickly that it wasn’t going to work. She figured she’d just stay in Nate’s room until Christina went back outside or something, but things didn’t go anywhere close to anything Zoey had planned.

She was inside with a bag of books and some pictures when she heard her mother scream. “What are you doing in here?” Christina shrieked, and then there was a loud crash. 

Zoey held her breath, her body pressed against the wall. She waited, trying to determine what the noise was.

And then the door flung open, and a guy with long hair and meth mouth was shoving his way in. At the sight of Zoey, he chuckled, and called, “Ay yo, Brandon! We got another one.” He grabbed her around the middle and lifted her. 

“Get- get off of me! Get the fuck off of me!” Zoey screamed, dropping the bag she’d had in her hand, ready to try to defend herself. She kicked her feet and screamed, punching him in the side of the head, but another guy came in and zip-tied her hands. They shoved her onto the floor next to Christina, and she was overwhelmed with memories of the previous summer. She shut down. There was no fight. Just silence.

The mother and daughter looked at each other – really looked at each other – for the first time. Christina had tears running down her cheeks, and she looked older than Zoey had thought she would; she had little wrinkles forming by her eyes. She was actually pretty. Zoey had never let herself see that before.

The thing that stood out the most to Christina about her daughter was that Zoey’s eyes were dead. There was nothing in them as they flicked over her mother’s face. Her loose braids were falling apart, her skin was tanner than Christina remembered, and her hair perfectly matched Christina's own. 

Christina ground her teeth and fought harder to get out of her restraints. “It’s okay,” she whispered to Zoey halfheartedly. “Don’t worry, baby. We’re gonna be just fine.”

Zoey ignored the words and shut her eyes, resting her head on the carpet. _Please let them kill me,_ she begged. _Dear God, if you’re up there, please let them kill me._  

She could hear the people going frantically through drawers and cabinets. She watched as they disconnected the TV and stole Nate’s Xbox. That pissed her off – he loved that fucking thing. But she was powerless. Again. 

Fuck. 

There she was again, lying on her stomach on the ground, strands of stray hair in her face, her bare stomach pressed to the ground. Fuck her for choosing a crop top that morning. Her hands and ankles were tied. She was stuck.

And this would happen again.

This would happen over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over again. People coming in and hurting her, taking whatever the fuck they wanted. So what was the point? 

Ten slow minutes passed, Zoey lying lifelessly on the carpet and watching the little house with glazed eyes as it was torn apart. She couldn’t even feel sad about the stupid Xbox. None of this mattered to her. Nothing fucking mattered anymore.

She shut her eyes and tried to sleep.

Finally, they left, and Christina stopped crying.

“Zoey?” she asked, her voice a little hoarse. 

Zoey didn’t move.

“Zee,” she tried. “Come on. Help me get to the phone.”

Zoey remained perfectly motionless. 

Christina sighed and spent the next five minutes crawling like a snake over to the kitchen. She rocked onto her side and pushed herself up just enough to get to her knees. She shuffled over to the drawers and turned so her back was facing them. She used the handles to stand up, and then she hopped over to the drawer with the scissors. 

The entire scene would have been funny to Zoey on any other day, but after what had just happened, she was certain that she’d never smile again. 

Christina managed to get her hands free, and then she snapped the tie around her ankles. She rushed to Zoey and cut her hands and ankles free, but the girl didn’t move.

“Zoey?” Christina asked. “Honey? Are.. are you okay?” She reached a hand down to rest on Zoey’s shoulder.

Zoey was still. There was nothing to say. It was just like last time. Just like last time. She couldn’t breathe.

But the air kept flowing through her nose, and Christina stood up. “I’m going to call Nate,” she announced. 

As if Zoey cared.

 

* * *

 

“Might want to taper off the booze,” Nate suggested to Jay. “You got a pretty big championship fight coming up.” He shrugged at his brother’s expression. “It's just some advice.” 

“I'm tapering my ass off right now. If I taper everything at once, the whole system shuts down, Nathaniel.” 

“Oh, is that... is that how it works?” he asked, laughing a little. 

“Medical fact, sir. Medical fucking fact.”

The two brothers were parked at a bar, waiting for some new up-and-comer Dad wanted to check out to fight. Clearly, though, he hadn't been that interested, because he hadn’t bothered to put his date plans with Roxanne on hold to come see the guy. He was taking her to dinner or something. Nate hadn’t been thrilled when Alvey asked him to go in his place, but at least it was an opportunity to drag Jay along and get him out of the motel room and away from Ava. 

“No suit tonight, huh?” Nate asked, looking at Jay’s Tru MMA t-shirt.

“No, and I'm not happy about it. I feel like a fucking turtle without its shell,” Jay complained.

“Don’t you mean, uh, tortoise?” Nate teased. 

Jay looked at him blankly.

“Mary…? Zee’s tortoise…? No? The one from the yard?” 

“Oh, yeah, yeah,” Jay replied, nodding. He called immediately for the bartender. “Can I trouble you for one more, please? Uno más.” 

Nate’s cell phone started vibrating against his hip. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled it out. _Mom,_  it read. It was loud as fuck in the ballroom, but he answered it anyway. She never called. 

“Hello?” He moved a few feet away from the crowd and pressed his phone hard against his ear. “Wh- what? Hello?” Once he could hear, he said, “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Slow down. Slow down, slow down.” 

He listened, taking in her panicked words.

“Alright. Are you okay?” Pause. “And Zebra, is she-?”

Jay was paying attention now. He’d drifted over to where Nate was standing.

“What do you mean?” Nate demanded. “Okay. Uh, what the fuck did they take? Alright. Uh, no. I'm at the fight with Jay. We're... we're coming home now. We're coming. Alright. Bye.” 

Nate turned to Jay and put a hand on his chest. “Dude, we got fucking robbed.”

“What?” Jay asked, echoing Nate’s earlier reaction. 

“We gotta go right now. I gotta get home. Right now. Come on.”

Jay downed one more shot before he let Nate pull him out to the car.

 

* * *

 

 

“I just know her name is Chelsea,” Christina told the cops in the living room. “She was at the Casa Rosa Rehab a few months ago. They might have a last name. Uh, the guys, I've never seen before. There were two of them…” 

Jay wandered into Nate’s room, where Zoey was sitting on the floor under the window and Nate was looking angrily through what was left of his things.

“They fucking took all of it,” he hissed to Jay. “Seven fucking grand. They took all of it. And I can't even tell the fucking cops!”

“Sorry, man,” Jay said sympathetically, but Nate wasn’t done.

“Okay, I can't tell the fucking cops. I'm just supposed to fucking eat it?” He slammed his hand hard on the dresser. “What the fuck is her problem?! Why would she invite these fucking shithead junkies into our fucking house?”

“I think she was just trying to help,” Jay replied calmly. 

“Just trying to fucking help?” Nate exploded. He was seething. “She was... She was trying to fucking help? Look at my bedroom! Look at my _sister_!” he said angrily, pointing at Zoey, who had remained completely zoned out through the all yelling and crashing. 

Jay shook his head.

“What else did they take?” Nate demanded.

“They took the TV, your Xbox, a whole bunch of shit. I don't know. It's a mess, man.” 

Nate shoved past Jay and out of the room. He’d be going for a walk to cool off, no doubt. Jay leaned down and picked up a red business card that had fallen to the ground.

 _Mea culpa,_ it read. _Dinner?_ The number on the front was for someone named Will. Jay pocketed the card, glanced at Zoey, and followed Nate through the doorway. He stopped at his couch to grab some shirts, and Christina walked back into the room. She must have just let the cops leave. 

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Oh, I’m just grabbing some extra clothes,” he replied quietly. 

“Why don't you just come home?” 

Jay set down his things and went up to her, wrapping his hands around her head. “You're not hurt, right?”

“No.” 

“You're okay?” 

“Mm-hmm.” 

“Okay. Then I'm gonna go,” he said softly. “Nate's here. You're all right. Zee’s alright. But this isn't my job. I can't help you every single time. You know?”

Her eyes were wide with hurt, but she didn’t stop her son from picking up his shirts and exiting the house. She heard his engine turn over and the truck back down the driveway. That was it; he was gone again.

 

* * *

 

“I'm sorry. I-I... I just can't do this,” Nate mumbled to Will the next day. The other man was silent, staring at Nate as he ended things in the middle of the crowded diner. “I like you. And… that's the problem.”

“You gonna live your whole life this way?” Will asked, almost snapping at Nate as he stood up.

Nate looked down at his still-steaming coffee. “I'm sorry.”

The bell clanged loudly as Will exited less than two minutes after he’d come in.

Even though Nate allowed himself sit at the counter and drink the rest of his coffee, the drive home felt long. Zoey had felt calm all night, so at least something was good. He didn’t feel waves of despair coming from her like he had for so many weeks. He’d almost gotten used to it. The change was more than welcome, though, especially tonight. 

Nate trudged up the stairs, ignoring the sounds of quiet laughter coming from the living room, where Alvey and Roxanne were tangled up on the couch watching TV together. The middle Kulina sibling went straight to his room, pulled off his shoes, and laid back across his bed.

His mind started to drift to Will, but he shut that down as quickly as he could. It was better this way. It _had_ to be this way. This was the only way he could be safe. Which sucked, because Will had been pretty much the only thing making Nate happy over the past few weeks. Mom was all over the place, Jay was shooting heroin, Zoey was a depressive disaster, the goddamn money from Bob got stolen, and Nate had felt so fucking helpless. Hopeless. At least breaking up with Will meant he could control _something_ in his life, even if that meant pain across the board.

Speaking of pain, Nate was pretty sure Zoey was asleep, but there was something tickling the back of his mind and pushing him to check on her anyway. It felt like something was off. Something was… The more attention he paid it, the more afraid he grew.

Nate got to his feet and walked across the hall to her bedroom. “Zebra?” he asked, knocking tentatively on the door.

No answer.  
  
But that had become the standard these last few days – she always seemed to either be silent or crying. He pushed the door open and was met with a messy bedroom. There were clothes strewn across the floor, plates and forks stacked up on her bookcase, and pillows and blankets lying in a heap on the carpet. What stood out, though, were several white envelopes on her bed. Nate walked up to them and glanced down, lifting up the stack. The one on top had his name. Underneath it were four more addressed in her sloppy handwriting for Dad, Jay, Lisa, and Ryan. It was only when he’d been staring at them for several seconds that his mind caught up to what he was looking at, and he let go of them and took a rapid step back. 

“Fuck,” he breathed. “Zoey? Zoey!” 

Her bathroom light was on, and he flung the door open without knocking. The sight he was met with had him backing up, his hand clawing at his mouth. It felt like the breath had been sucked out of his chest. 

“No,” he whispered. “Zoey! ZOEY!” 

He stepped right into the pool of blood and knelt in front of her. He shook her shoulders hard. “Zoey, oh my fucking god, wake up. Wake up, come on, come on,” he begged, fear flooding his eyes. “Fuck! No no no no no, don’t fucking do this to me. Don’t fucking do this. Zoey!”

He turned his head over his shoulder. “DAD!” he shouted out the door. “ _DAD!”_

 

* * *

 

 

Alvey had been in the middle of drinks and flirting with Roxanne – beautiful, beautiful Roxanne, with her dark curls and her tan skin and her shiny eyes – when a horrified scream shattered the air. 

Alvey’s reaction was more in his stomach than it was in his mind. “What the fuck,” he muttered nervously, trying not to panic prematurely. But then it came again.

 _“DAD!”_ That was definitely Nate. “DAD, HELP! HELP!”

Alvey scrambled up from the couch and ran up the stairs. “I’m coming, Nate!” Alvey called back, trying not to let the fear into his voice.

“HURRY! DAD, HELP!”

The sound was coming out of Nate’s throat the wrong way. Alvey had heard him yelling during Jay’s fights enough times to know what it should have sounded like, but this certainly wasn’t the same noise. Nate sounded terrified. 

Alvey rushed into Nate’s room, but there was no one to be found, just a discarded pair of sneakers. “Where are you?” Alvey started to ask, but he could hear sounds coming from Zoey’s room. He stormed in and could see Nate crouching on the ground in the doorway of her bathroom. Oh, fuck. Fuck. 

Alvey stopped in the doorway with wide eyes. He was completely frozen, his mouth gaping open as he stared at his daughter on the tile floor. She was leaning against the wall with her head lolling to one side like a ragdoll. Both her wrists had been vertically slit; a razor blade was still in her left hand. But it was more than that – there was blood quite literally spurting out of her left arm. She’d hit the fucking artery.

“Dad,” Nate pleaded. He was right in the middle of the blood, right there on the floor with his baby sister, and Alvey was too afraid to move. 

“Wh- what happened,” Alvey whispered.

Nate shook his head. “I don’t know,” he rushed out. “I don’t fucking know, I just got here.” As if a switch flipped in his mind, he leaned forward and grabbed at her wrists, covering the gashes with his hands and squeezing them shut as best he could. “What do we do?” he asked, panic showing clearly in his eyes. “Dad, she’s gonna fucking die. She’s gonna fucking die!” 

Alvey quickly patted his pockets, looking for his cell phone. They needed help; Zoey had clearly been bleeding for a while, and she’d lost a _ton_ of blood. He’d never seen anything like this, even in the movies.

“I got it,” Roxanne said quietly, her phone already pressed to her ear. She disappeared into the hallway to talk to the 911 operator.

“She’s still bleeding; her fucking heart’s beating,” Alvey muttered. He only knew that from TV, but he was at least ninety percent sure that it was true. “Shit,” he said urgently. “Holy shit.” He reached a hand out to brush some of his daughter’s hair away from her face. “Zo? Can you hear me, kiddo?”

Nate was staring hard at his sister, mentally begging her to open her eyes, say something, do anything to prove that she was really alive. 

“Wake up, Zo,” Alvey commanded. “Fucking wake up. Right now.”

Nothing happened.

“Dad, she’s bleeding so fucking bad,” Nate said, his voice sounding almost like a whimper. 

“I know,” Alvey whispered. “Just fucking - keep doing what you’re doing, yeah?” He placed his hands over Nate’s and pressed down even harder. “It’s okay,” he said. He was speaking to himself as much as he was speaking to his kids. “It’s okay, it’s okay.” 

The next few minutes that ticked by were the longest of Nate’s life. He watched Zoey’s chest carefully to make sure she was still breathing. She was. He could feel her blood, wet and slick under his palms and his jeans and his socks. Alvey’s strong hands, even bigger than his own, were a comfort. He wanted to cave in and hug his sister, cry into her shoulder. But he wouldn’t. He couldn’t. This was all he could do, hold onto her arms and try to keep her blood inside of her. Goddammit. She was going to die. His little sister was going to die right in front of him, literally in his hands. He couldn’t save her.

“Nate,” Alvey was saying. There had been a siren in the distance, but it was getting loud.

Nate nodded frantically, not quite allowing himself relief yet. Roxanne let the paramedics in downstairs, and they came up with a stretcher between them. They directed Alvey and Nate out of the bathroom, and Alvey had to pull Nate away from his sister. “They’re gonna help her,” he assured his son.

Nate stared down at his wet, bloody hands. He was suddenly overcome with the need to vomit. He stumbled a few feet away, and back up came the coffee from the diner, the sandwich he had for lunch, and the protein shake he drank following his afternoon workout.

No one paid him any attention. 

He coughed the rest of it out onto Zoey’s carpet and stood up, rubbing the back of his wrist over his mouth. 

Alvey watched as the men carefully moved his daughter’s arms, taping up the wounds and bandaging them as quickly and tightly as they could before moving her onto the stretcher and lifting her up. She looked so small. 

“Eighteen year old female,” one of the men relayed into the radio on his shoulder. “Suicide attempt. Class four blood loss from slashed wrists. Patient is unconscious and will need immediate blood and saline transfusions on reception.” Almost as an afterthought, he added, “She has not yet gone into ventricular tachycardia.” 

Nate had already recovered from his adrenaline-induced vomiting, so he followed the EMTs down the stairs, leaving bloody sock prints in his wake. Alvey walked behind his son, careful to avoid the spots Nate had just stepped. 

The men carried Zoey through the sliding glass door, down the driveway, and to the ambulance. While they loaded her in, Nate told one of the men of his intent to go with her.

“Age and relation?” the man asked, barely glancing up at Nate.

“I’m her brother. I’m twenty-two.”

The man motioned him in and said, “Stay out of the way.”

Nate didn’t reply. He climbed up and sat next to a red-headed EMT whose nametag read GALLAGHER. He had gloves on and was sliding a needle into Zoey’s arm. He attached a sort of soft plastic and strung an IV bag into it. It looked like water.

“There are painkillers in there,” the guy told him him quietly as the siren flipped on and the ambulance started moving.

Nate nodded. 

“Hey,” the guy said gently. “I’m a big brother, too.”

Nate tried to smile, but the action just brought him closer to bursting into tears. He couldn’t do that, not here.

“I’m Ian,” the redhead said. “What’s your name?”

“Nate,” Nate replied, but his focus was on his sister, not the conversation.

“What’s your sister’s name?” 

Nate looked up at the guy then. These people had come to the house to save Zoey. They’d walked through her blood, bandaged her up, carried her down a flight of stairs, and stuck a needle in her, and they didn’t even know her name. Nate couldn’t imagine doing that job. 

“Uh. Zoey. But everybody just calls her Zee.”

“My little sister’s name is Debbie. And I have two little brothers, Carl and Liam. And I have two older siblings, too. I’m right in the middle.”

“Me, too,” Nate offered. He nodded at Zoey. “She’s the youngest. We have an older brother.” 

“What’s his name?” 

“Jay.”

“Is he nice?” Ian asked.

“Yeah,” Nate replied absently. “Are we almost there?”

Ian smiled at him sympathetically. They'd barely started driving. “Soon.” 

Nate fell quiet, and he stared harder and harder at Zoey with each passing second, begging her again to wake up.

“You want me to keep talking?” Ian asked. 

Nate hesitated for a moment, not wanting to admit weakness. But he needed something to pass the time. He nodded again. 

“Okay. Well, here’s something most people think is weird. My older brother’s name is Lip.” 

That did get Nate to look up at him. 

“Yeah,” he said, chuckling a little. “Lip. His name is actually Philip, but we just call him Lip. Always have. I don’t even know how it started.”

“I call her Zebra,” Nate muttered. He didn’t know why the words were spilling out of him so easily. He was just… desperate, he figured. “We used to call her Little Zee when she was a baby. Her birthday is in August, so when Halloween came, she was still a really new baby. And we got her a zebra costume just because, and my dad and my brother started calling her Little Zebra that night as a joke. I guess I thought that was really her name. And by the time I figured it out…” he trailed off.

“It stuck,” Ian finished for him. “I like that story.”

Nate looked out the back window and tried not to think about how there might not be any more Zoey stories after this. The ambulance ride might be the last one.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dismantling summer by the wonder years has been a really important song these past few weeks (for me but also for nate and zoey as well). if you wanna check it out, look up the lyrics first.

For a Friday night, it was surprisingly quiet in the Larkin Memorial emergency room. Alvey went straight to the front desk and showed his ID to the receptionist. 

“My daughter just came here in an ambulance,” he stated. “Zoey Kulina.” 

The receptionist did some typing and then had a nurse show Alvey back through a maze of hallways. 

“She should be in here,” the man said once they got into the ICU, but Alvey was too busy elbowing past him to listen. 

Nate was leaning against a wall, his eyes blank. He registered Alvey moving toward him just before he made contact. 

“My boy,” Alvey muttered, hugging Nate close to his chest. 

Nate squeezed his eyes shut. _Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry,_ he ordered himself. Nate desperately wanted to cave into the hug and let himself be held, but that wasn’t an option. He was the strong one; his dad needed him. He swallowed and clenched his jaw. 

“What the fuck are they saying?” Alvey asked when he pulled away. 

“Not much,” Nate mumbled, shoving his bloodstained hands into his pockets.

“Where is she?”

“They’re giving her a blood transfusion. And trying to fix her fucking wrists.” 

Alvey nodded. Quiet fell between them for several seconds. Nate looked down at his feet, and Alvey followed his eyes down to the sad, bloodstained socks.

“Oh, I, uh. I brought you some fucking shoes,” Alvey noted, shrugging the duffle bag on his shoulder. “There’s clothes in here, and phone chargers and some snacks. I – I – I didn’t really know how long we’d be here or what the fuck we’d need, so...”

Nate nodded. “Thanks.” 

Alvey handed him the bag. “Go get changed, okay? I… I put in those sweats you wear all the time. The gray ones.”

Nate nodded again but didn’t move. 

“Son?” Alvey asked. 

“I’ll do it later.” 

“You’re covered in blood,” Alvey pointed out.

Nate was silent.

“Nate, go change, man.” 

“I said I’ll do it later,” he spat angrily.

“Okay,” Alvey placated, recognizing Nate’s warning sign. He was going to snap soon if Alvey didn’t back off. At least the oldest Kulina had that much figured out.

Nate seemed grateful that he wasn’t pushed any further. God, that kid had to be bursting inside. But there he was, stony as ever. 

A few minutes passed with the father and son watching doctors and nurses walking up and down the hall. Distant machines beeped and whirred, and there was a woman crying somewhere close by. Nate tried to tune it all out.

“Hey, you, uh. You wanna go sit down somewhere?” Alvey asked. “I saw a waiting room a little while back. They’ve got a TV.”

“You go ahead,” Nate muttered.

“You just gonna fucking stand here all night?” Alvey asked, almost sarcastically. 

“Yeah,” Nate replied, his tone serious. He thought his reply should have been obvious. 

Alvey looked closely at his son. The kid looked far too weary for twenty-two. “Hey,” Alvey said softly.

Nate glanced up. 

“She’s gonna be fine.”

Nate’s lips twisted then, just for a fraction of a second. He pushed the feelings down and nodded tightly at his father.

Alvey tilted his head in sadness. “Nate,” he pleaded, but his son was swiping the back of his arm across his nose and acting like nothing had happened. Alvey sighed and moved forward. “Let me get my charger out of the bag, okay?”

Nate stood still while his father rustled through the bag for the white cord.

“You text me if you need me, alright? I’m gonna fucking make some phone calls. Cancel our classes for tomorrow. Maybe even close down the whole fucking gym.”

Nate was surprised at that. He didn’t expect his dad to care so much. “You can’t close on a Saturday,” he countered.

“I can do whatever the fuck I want, pal,” Alvey joked, cracking a little smile.

Nate didn’t respond.

Alvey awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck and walked away.

 

* * *

 

Two hours passed with Nate alternating between standing with his shoulder pressed against the wall and pacing across the hallway until he got in someone’s way. Then he stopped and leaned against the wall again. 

He still hadn’t worked up the nerve to go into the bathroom twenty feet away to change his clothes. What if someone came out with an update for him and he missed it? What if she only had seconds to live and they couldn’t find him and he didn’t get to say goodbye? He would never fucking forgive himself. So he stood in the hallway, dried blood turning nearly black on his jeans and staining the bottoms of his socks a crusty brown. His hands looked like something out of a horror movie, but he didn’t wash them. He wanted to hold on to every part of Zoey that he had until he knew what the fuck was going to happen to her. 

It was past 11 PM when Alvey came up to him again in the hall. “Nate,” he said, sounding almost disappointed when he saw that his son was in the same spot against the wall, still in his blood-soaked clothes.

Nate blinked at him expressionlessly, the same as before.

“Go change, alright? I’ll stand here. I’ll tell you if anything happens, yeah?” 

Nate shook his head.

“Yeah,” Alvey insisted. “Go fucking change.”

“Dad, _no,_ ” Nate protested, his voice biting.

Just then, a nurse came up. “Nate,” she greeted.

Nate nodded at her.

Her name was Tanisha, and she had brought him a paper cup filled with water an hour previously. She had dark brown skin and a short ponytail and purple scrubs. Her nametag had a blue happy face sticker pressed right next to the A at the end. “Zoey’s still kicking,” she smiled. 

Nate nodded thankfully. 

“What’s going on, is she doing okay?” Alvey asked quickly.

“’S my dad,” Nate mumbled to Tanisha, who nodded at him.

She continued, “They’ve stitched her wrists, and we’ve been giving her blood transfusions. You should be able to see her soon.”

Nate’s shoulders sagged in relief.

“But we’re not out of the woods yet, babe,” Tanisha said gently. “After we got her blood levels up to a safe reading, we ran some routine tests. The doctor says she has alcohol and a very large dose of diazepam in her system. Is she on Dizac or Valium or something like that?”

Nate turned his back to his father and the nurse and walked a few feet away. 

“I am,” Alvey supplied. “She must have found where I keep them.”

“Which one?” 

“Valium. For anxiety.”

“Alright,” Tanisha nodded. “Nate, come here, baby. I need you to hear this.”

Nate obliged. 

“I’m going to say something that’s going to sound really scary. But I promise it’s not as bad as it sounds, okay?” 

Nate couldn’t force his eyes up off the floor. Alvey, on the other hand, was staring straight at the nurse. 

“Shes gone into a sort of coma.”

Nate’s hand moved up to cover his face. He took a slow breath in through his nose as the nurse continued. 

“This isn’t rare with diazepam overdoses, but it _is_ dangerous. She’s on a ventilator just in case. And they’re getting ready to give her activated charcoal.” 

“A ventilator,” Alvey echoed. 

“Yes, sir,” Tanisha nodded. “Just in case.” 

“But you think we’ll be able to see her soon?” Nate inquired. 

“Most likely within the next hour. She won’t be conscious, but after we do our thing, at a certain point, all we can do is wait. That’s when you’ll be allowed in.” 

“Alright,” Alvey said. “Thanks so much.”

Tanisha nodded. “I’m Tanisha if you have any questions,” she told Alvey. She smiled sadly at Nate and then went down the hallway into another patient’s room.

“A fucking coma,” Alvey muttered once she had disappeared.

Nate shook his head and started away toward the bathroom. Alvey didn’t stop him.

 

* * *

 

1:15 AM found Nate and Alvey sitting in hard, plastic chairs in the waiting room a hallway over. With the prognosis Tanisha had delivered, Nate had lost a substantial amount of hope. He’d also lost some fear; everything was out of his hands. He went to change clothes.

The bottoms of his feet were sticky and stained red from the socks, but he left them that way. There wasn’t much he could have done to change it. He put on the comfortable sweats and the new shirt, took a piss, washed his hands three times with steaming hot water, and went out to meet Alvey.

The oldest Kulina took the bag and slid it under his chair. Then he put his arm around his son.

“Someone needs to let Abby out,” Nate muttered, “and feed her. She never had dinner.”

“I’ll call Ryan, yeah?” Alvey asked.

Nate nodded. “Does…” 

Alvey looked at him.

“Does Jay know?”

Alvey shook his head. “I didn’t say anything.”

Nate said, “Don’t.” 

That seemed like an odd request, especially coming from Nate, but Alvey went with it. “Alright, son.” 

Nate nodded and rested his head against the wall as Alvey pressed call on Ryan’s number.

“Hey. It’s late. Everything alright?” Ryan asked sleepily. 

“Uh,” Alvey said, chuckling awkwardly. “Not really. Were you sleeping?” 

“No,” Ryan lied. “What’s up?” 

Alvey swallowed. “I need you to go over to my house and let the fucking dog out.” 

“Now?” Ryan asked. Alvey could practically hear his eyebrows arching.

“Yeah, now.”

“Wh- where are you? Where are your kids?”

“Not home,” Alvey answered shortly. 

Nate nudged Alvey with his elbow. When his father looked at him, he nodded as if to say, _Tell him._

Alvey sighed. “We’re… we’re at the fucking hospital, Ryan. Can you just feed my kids’ fucking dog?”

“Uh, yeah,” Ryan said, and Alvey could hear rustling in the background like he was pushing covers off his lap. “Yeah. What’s wrong? What happened?” 

Nate nodded again. 

“It’s…” Alvey blew out a heavy breath. “You know Zo?” 

“Yeah, I know her,” Ryan replied nervously. 

“She, uh. She tried to fucking kill herself.” 

Ryan was silent for a moment, taking it in. And then, “Fuck. Oh, fuck! Holy _shit_ , Alvey. What – what did she do? I mean, is she fucking okay? Is she gonna make it?”

“It’s all very touch and go right now, Ryan,” Alvey said tiredly. 

“I’m coming down there.” 

“Alright, fine. But I need you to take care of the goddamn dog first.” 

“I will,” Ryan promised.

“Nate says she hasn’t eaten dinner yet.”

“Yeah, oh. What do I give her?” 

Nate held his hand out for the phone. “There’s a bag of dog food on the floor in the pantry,” he said, his voice a little scratchy. “Give her two scoops from there. She’ll probably need water, too. And when you let her out, she’ll go right away. I’d let her out first and then get her food ready for when she comes back in.” 

“Alright. Look, Nate, I’m so sorry, man,” Ryan was saying, but Nate already passed the phone back to his dad and gotten to his feet, walking down the hallways to where Zoey was being treated. He took his same spot on the wall and waited.

 

* * *

 

“Nate?” Tanisha asked.

His ears would have perked up if they were able. He looked over quickly.

“We’re ready for you.”

He left his hands nestled in the pockets of his sweats as he followed her past a few rooms. They stopped in a doorway. He could hear the slow _beep… beep… beep…_ of his sister’s heart monitor. 

“You’re going to want to move her; please don’t. You can touch her, but don’t move her.” 

Nate nodded anxiously. 

“She’s also attached to several machines, and I know I don’t need to tell you this, but please don’t mess with any of the cords or whatever. If anything gets disconnected…” She trailed off, letting Nate fill in the blank. “Same goes for the IVs. It might look a little scary, but it’s all to help her. Take your time, and let me know if you need anything, okay, sweetie?” She moved out of Nate’s way. 

The boy moved forward into the room. It was half-lit, one of the light bulbs burned out. It seemed fitting, though – the light glow was sort of like her bedroom. He moved forward and dragged the chair from the corner up to her bedside. He sat down and looked her over.

She had an oxygen mask over her face and a tube disappearing into her mouth. He hoped she couldn’t feel that. There was an IV on her left dripping blood into her, and one on her right feeding her some kind of clear liquid. Her dark hair was a mess, parted wrong and lying unkempt on the pillow. Most of the blood had been cleaned off of her arms and hands. She was bandaged up tightly, and there was no red seeping through the wrapping. That made Nate feel a little better.

He sat down next to her and leaned forward. “The fuck were you thinking,” he muttered, carefully moving a few pieces of her hair to the correct side. He stared at her for a moment and then dipped his head down to lean against the edge of the bed. God, he was so tired. He let his fingers lay gently over her fingers, and he shut his eyes. He didn’t sleep – he was sure he couldn’t have if he tried – but he let himself rest. Now that he was next to her, he definitely wouldn’t miss anything.

 

* * *

 

Ryan entered the side door of the hospital with wide eyes. Alvey stood up when his fighter came in.

“Hey,” Ryan said breathlessly, wrapping his arms tightly around the older man.

“Hey, Ryan. Thanks for coming, man,” Alvey replied. He accepted the hug and held on tightly.

“Is she okay?” 

Alvey let go of the other man, and they sat down together. “No. No, she’s not fucking okay.”

“Well, what the fuck happened? Where’s Nate?”

“They let him go back in to see her.”

“Good,” Ryan nodded. 

“Yeah. He’s been back there almost an hour now.”

Ryan nodded. 

“She, uh. She fucking slit her wrists.” Alvey let out a dark chuckle. “I’ve never seen so much fucking blood in my whole goddamn life.” 

“Alvey, no,” Ryan murmured.

“Yeah. But Nate was the one that found her.”

Ryan's face painted a picture of pure horror. 

“He was screaming,” Alvey told him softly. 

“Yeah, I can… I can imagine.”

“I’ve never seen him like that. But… we got here, and they told us that she had a bunch of my Valium in her system. And alcohol. So… I don’t know when she took that, but she’s in a coma.” 

Ryan pulled in a sharp breath. “Fuck, Alvey. Is she gonna wake up?” 

Alvey looked away and shook his head. “I don’t know, man.”

“Fuck,” Ryan muttered. “ _Fuck.”_  

“Yeah.” 

“And there’s nothing we can do?”

Alvey shook his head again.

Ryan sat back in his chair. “Fuck,” he repeated. “Can I go back and see her?”

“Let’s give Nate his time. We don’t, uh. We – we don’t know if she can pull through this.”

“Okay, yeah,” Ryan agreed. 

“There’s a glass door, though. You can go peek in. Just don’t let Nate see you, okay? I don’t want him to…” 

“Yeah.” 

“I don’t want him to know how bad this is,” Alvey finished. 

Ryan leaned forward and gave his coach – his _friend_ – another embrace.

Alvey awkwardly patted his back. “Thanks, man. Thanks. You mean a lot to her, you know. She loves you.” 

“I love her, too,” Ryan replied honestly. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm good," Alvey answered, waving him off.

Ryan studied him for a moment and stood up. “I’m gonna go see if I can see anything. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” 

“Let me know how Nate looks,” Alvey said. 

Ryan almost snorted. Of course that was Alvey’s concern right now. Though he supposed if there was nothing they could do for his daughter, it only made sense that Alvey would try to take care of his son. Ryan nodded and disappeared around the corner. 

“May I see your ID?” a nurse asked, stopping him in the hallway.

“Oh, sure. Yeah.” He dug his wallet out of his pocket and showed his card to her.

She paged through the papers on her clipboard and then looked up at him. “Who are you here for?” 

“Zoey Kulina,” Ryan supplied. 

“It’s family only back here,” the nurse said regretfully.

“Oh, she’s my niece,” Ryan lied smoothly. 

The nurse nodded. “Alright, then. We can only have one at a time in her room, and her brother is with her right now. He doesn’t seem to be planning to leave any time soon.”

“That’s fine. I just wanted to peek in,” he said. 

“Follow me.”

The nurse led him to a room with a glass door, just as Alvey had mentioned. There was a curtain partially blocking Ryan’s view, but he could make out Nate’s hunched shoulders and Zoey’s dark hair. She had a mask over her mouth and nose and several monitors on the wall behind her. He was a little comforted as he watched Nate’s thumb rubbing back and forth over the back of Zoey’s hand. He wondered how long Nate had been doing that. 

“She’s in a coma?” Ryan softly asked the nurse.

“Yes. It’s not uncommon with this type of overdose.” 

Ryan nodded. “Will she be okay?” 

“We just have to wait and see,” the nurse shrugged. “It’s all up to her now.”

 

* * *

 

“How’d he look?” Alvey asked when Ryan came back a few minutes later.

“I couldn’t see his face,” Ryan answered, “but he’s awake.”

Alvey nodded. “Alright.” 

They sat together quietly, the only two people left in the room. The TV was on mute, so the only sound was the girl at the desk typing something.

Maybe ten minutes passed before Nate came stumbling into the room.

Alvey looked worriedly at his son’s pale face. “What’s wrong?” he asked immediately. 

“Nothing,” Nate muttered. He took a seat, his knuckles white around the edge of the chair. 

Both Ryan and Alvey stared intently at the middle Kulina sibling. It grew apparent within seconds that he was having trouble getting air into his lungs.

“Breathe, son,” Alvey ordered.

Ryan got up and crouched in front of Nate. “It’s okay,” he said softly, gripping his wrists gently but still firmly. “Relax… you’re okay.” Between Keith and all the other residents at the halfway house, Ryan was familiar with Nate's symptoms. 

Nate tried to nod. “My heart’s beating so fast,” he gasped.

“I know,” Ryan told him warmly. “It’s alright. It’s alright.”

Nate looked straight at Ryan, and Ryan could read the urgency in his eyes. 

“You’re having a panic attack, that’s all,” Ryan told him softly. “It’s gonna stop in a little bit, I swear. You just have to relax.” 

Nate gritted his teeth and cast his eyes down to the carpet.

Ryan turned to Alvey, not taking his hands or focus off of Nate. “Hey, you wanna go get a nurse?” he suggested.

Alvey nodded. He got to his feet and jogged down the hallway. Within a few moments, he found the woman he was looking for. But what was her name? “Uh… Ta… Tamara!” he tried. She turned around, but he could tell he’d gotten it wrong even before she corrected him. 

“Tanisha,” she said, tapping her nametag with a manicured nail. 

“Tanisha, yeah,” he nodded, “sorry. Look, uh. My son’s having some sort of… panic… thing…” 

She motioned for Alvey to lead the way. 

Tanisha crouched down in front of Nate, right next to Ryan. “Hey, baby,” she smiled. She rubbed vigorously over the back of his hand and squeezed his fingers. “Breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth for me, alright?” 

Admittedly, Nate was relieved to see the nurse. She had been so kind to him, bringing him things and telling him little jokes and trying to lighten the mood. As much as Nate loved Ryan and Alvey, they had no idea what the fuck they were doing. 

“You feel my hand?” Tanisha asked. 

He nodded. He remembered Mac asking Zoey a similar question a few weeks – months? – previously, and his heart twinged. He started audibly fighting for breath. 

Tanisha spoke slowly and assuredly. “Nate, babe, it’s okay. You’re okay, honey. I know you’re worried about your sister. I know. But no matter what, it’s gonna be okay. We’re taking care of her. We’re doing everything we can.” Nate bowed his head, and she reached up and started rubbing his shoulder. She shifted into the chair next to him and wrapped a tight arm around his back. “Take it easy,” she murmured. 

Alvey watched helplessly, and Ryan let his warm hands rest on Nate’s knees.

Several minutes passed consisting of Tanisha talking quietly while Nate was busy feeling like the walls were closing in. Finally, though, he regained control of his breathing and his mind. 

He sat up a little as the last of it wore off, and Tanisha tugged him into a hug. “See, I told you you’d get through it.” 

He nodded, his face more expressionless than ever.

She pointed at his forehead. “You got too much stuff going on up there, babe. Gotta talk about it. Okay?” 

It sounded just like what they’d been telling Zoey all along. He couldn’t argue with logic, though. He nodded. “Thanks,” he said quietly. 

“No problem, baby. I gotta get back to my rounds, but let me know if you need anything else.” 

Thankfully, neither Ryan nor Alvey said anything, so Nate retreated quietly to the home inside his head. He wasn’t ready to go back to his sister, not when he was worried that his body might betray him again. He tipped his head back against the wall and shut his eyes.

 

* * *

 

Nate awoke in the waiting room to yellow sun streaming in the windows and light chatter. He rubbed his eyes and sat up quickly. Morning had definitely rolled around, and Ryan and Alvey were nowhere to be found. Nate got to his feet and rushed down Zoey’s hallway, but he stopped in the doorway. She was still there, and the heart monitor was still displaying that ever-moving jagged line. Thank fucking god. What was more surprising, though, was Alvey. 

Nate and Zoey’s father was resting in a chair at his daughter’s bedside. He had a newspaper folded in his lap and his arms crossed over his chest, and he was clearly snoring. 

Nate sagged a little against the door. A nurse passed him, and he stopped her. “Excuse me,” he said softly. He cleared his throat. 

“Yeah?” she asked.

“Is Tanisha still here?”

“No. She went home at 5.”

Nate’s face fell. “Oh.”

“She’ll be back tonight.”

A glance at his phone told him it was almost noon, though, so that much was good. He wandered outside and dialed a number on his phone.

“Uh, hi. It’s me. I just… look, I know we haven’t talked in a while, but I need to tell you something. Um. Zebra… she fucking.” He let out a small huff. If he said the words, it made it real. He didn’t want it to be real. “Well, something happened, and we’re at the hospital cause it’s fucking bad, and I just… You’re, like, the only fucking person I want to talk to right now. So… text me, I guess. If you get this. Or call me. Okay. I… Um. Yeah. Okay, that’s all. Bye.” 

He dialed another number. Immediately, the person on the other end picked up.

“What?” he asked, sounding terrified.

“Nothing’s wrong,” Nate said quickly.

There was a rush of breath on the other end of the line. “Don’t fucking do that. Just – fucking text me first, okay?” Ryan demanded. “No calls without texts first. That’s the new rule.” 

Nate nodded. “Okay.” He didn’t want to be spooked like that, either. 

“She’s still alive?” 

“Yeah. Nothing’s changed since last night.” 

“Okay.”

“I was just calling cause…” 

“Cause what?” 

Nate almost laughed at the absurdity of his call. He was never one to do anything like what he was doing then, but the stress combined with the weird night of sleep must have gotten to him. “Um. I was calling to see if you could bring some food.”

“Yeah, man, whatever you want.” Clearly, Ryan was feeling some sympathy, because he didn’t seem to find Nate’s request humorous at all. 

“Can you just do, like, sandwiches? You can go to Dad’s and make whatever you want. And just bring it down here. Oh, and can you check on Abby, too?” 

“Of course.”

“I know you’re not supposed to want to eat when this shit happens, but I puked yesterday and so…”

“No, I got it, man. You’re good. Don’t fucking worry. Everyone reacts differently, right? Give me like forty-five minutes and I’ll be there.” 

“Thanks.” 

“No problem, man.”

Nate hung up. There was one more call, one he’d been dreading. He dialed and pressed the phone to his ear. He prayed the man wouldn’t pick up.

“Sam Winchester.” 

“Hi,” Nate said. “This is Nate. Um, Kulina.” 

“Hi, Nate. Is everything okay?” 

Nate wanted to dissolve into tears on the spot. He lifted a hand to cover his eyes. “Um, no,” he said softly. 

Sam’s voice shifted from conversational to almost tense. “What happened.” It wasn’t even a question; he knew something was really, really wrong. 

“I should have called you yesterday,” Nate muttered. “I’ve been putting it off because I didn’t want to tell you.” 

“Tell me.”

“We’re at the hospital,” he admitted sadly. 

“She hurt herself,” Sam stated.

“Yeah. I… I’m not ready to talk about it,” he said, repeating one of the lines he’d read online during his research. “Can you maybe call my dad and have you fill him in?”

“Of course. Nate, you know you can call me if you need anything, alright? Anything at all.”

“Thanks,” Nate said softly. 

They ended the call, and Nate headed back inside, his shoulders drooping. If Zoey lived, she was never going to forgive him. 

 

* * *

 

 

Ryan showed up with Alicia and Keith and about eight sandwiches. Nate and Alvey got first pick, and they all sat in the waiting room chatting about Zee and the nurses and what things Nate and Alvey had missed in the news. There was nothing major other than a crash in the stock market, but neither Nate nor Alvey cared much about that.

Nate devoured his first sandwich and went for a second. Alvey, surprisingly, only ate half of his. 

The hours ticked by slowly. Alicia and Keith left. Ryan stayed. Joe Daddy and Juan showed up for a while. Then they left. Ryan stayed. Alvey went home for a shower and a nap. Nate and Ryan stayed. 

Tanisha came back to work, and Nate was sincerely glad to see her. She greeted him with a big hug. “I’ve been thinking about you,” she told him fondly, running a hand over his buzz cut. “You need sleep.” 

“I slept,” he told her. 

“Yeah, in the chair,” she intoned, implying that she didn’t think that counted. “And you kept waking up every two minutes.”

“I did?” he asked. 

“Yeah. You kept asking if the zebra was okay. And I kept telling you we don’t have zebras here. This is a people hospital.”

Nate smacked his forehead, and Ryan let out a laugh. 

“What?” Tanisha asked. 

“He calls his sister ‘Zebra,’” Ryan explained.

Tanisha gave Nate a weird look. He shrugged. “It’s… it’s a long story.”

“Well, anyway,” she said, shaking her head, “you need sleep, I can tell. And food. Did you eat?” 

“We had lunch,” Ryan supplied. “Sandwiches and water.” 

“Good. Now make sure you eat some dinner, too.” She pointed at Ryan. “You taking good care of your nephew?” 

“Yes, ma’am,” Ryan promised. He’d forgotten to tell Nate about the relation he'd invented, but the boy just went with it. Figures, knowing Jay and all his crazy shenanigans. The things Nate must have heard growing up…

“Good.” She looked back to Nate. “They’re still running tests, but you should be able to come back and see her again soon, Nate.” 

He nodded in thanks.

 

* * *

 

A doctor came out to talk to Nate and Ryan when ten o’clock rolled around. “She’s not doing so well,” the man said. “I’ve got her on every treatment we can give her, and the best news is that she’s not in any pain. But she’s got a long fight ahead of her, even if she does pull through physically. This was not a light-hearted attempt,” the doctor said. “She truly did want to die.”


	14. Chapter 14

Nate had wandered back outside the hospital doors for some fresh air. Between all the nurses running tests, Dad looking like a zombie, and Ryan looking after both Kulina men like a mother hen, Nate was feeling a little bit suffocated. Not to mention that he’d literally been confined to two rooms for the last 50 hours. And in that time he’d managed a total of five hours of sleep. 

He’d only been standing outside for a handful of minutes when a black SUV peeled up the hill and slammed on the breaks a few feet in front of him. Of course, that had his attention. And then a small woman with blonde hair hopped out of the car and started walking quickly towards him, and his heart turned in his chest.  _Lisa._

“Nate!” she called, but he was already heading for her.

She jogged up and flung her arms around him, and he pulled her in close, nearly crushing her against his chest. “You came,” he said quietly into her shoulder. He hoped she didn’t hear his surprise. 

“Of course I fucking came,” she replied, still not letting go. Her hand was cool against the skin on the back of his neck. “What the fuck is going on down here? I leave for one fucking second…” she joked, but when she pulled back and saw Nate’s face, she stopped. “What?”

He shook his head and tucked his hands into his pockets.

She looked at him carefully. “It’s really fucking bad, huh?” 

He hesitated and then nodded. He’d fucking never been able to lie to her. 

“Tell me everything,” she demanded, taking his hand and leading him to a bench a few feet away. “Don’t leave fucking anything out, okay?” 

He swallowed and then nodded. It was horrible at first, trying to talk, but once he started, it was like he couldn’t stop. The words just kept coming out, faster and faster until he was tripping over himself. Lisa’s eyes grew more concerned with every passing sentence, and she kept a tight grip on his arm through the entire thing. It took Nate about three minutes to say everything he felt needed to be said. When he was finished, he fell quiet. 

She wrapped an arm around his back. “I am… Nate, I’m so fucking sorry.”

He shrugged, but his eyes betrayed him. They welled with tears, and for the first time, he didn’t try to stop them. He ducked his head down and silently let them fall.

Lisa didn’t speak, just rubbed his back and stayed by his side.

Nate wished Jay was there. He wished fucking Zoey was there. He needed a big bear hug from Jay, craved his reassuring words. He needed that sideways frown Zee made when he was sad, needed her warm hands grabbing onto his, needed that crooked smile she’d give him when she transitioned from letting him be upset to trying to cheer him up. He wished he’d given her that fucking mix CD he’d made her. It’d been sitting in his dresser for a week. Maybe it could have helped. Maybe he should have tried harder with Jay. Maybe he should have told Dad a long time ago what was really going on with her. Or Sam. _Someone_. He should have dragged her to the emergency room when she cut her wrist. Fuck. All of this was on him. 

“Nate,” Lisa said slowly. “I… Did Jay ever tell you about someone named Jennifer?” 

He shook his head and roughly wiped the back of his nose on his sleeve.

Lisa nodded. “Well, I have three brothers, you know that. And. Well. I used to have a sister, too.”

Nate looked at her then, meeting her eyes for the first time. They both looked so fucking broken. 

“Her name was Jennifer, and she was nine years older than me. She was beautiful and popular, and she was always on the fucking… good grades list. I don’t remember what the fuck it was called. My parents were so proud of her, and she was just the fucking coolest person in the world, I swear to fucking god. I wanted to be just like her. I used to,” she chuckled, “I used to sit and stare at myself in the mirror and look at all the parts of my face that looked like her. My eyes, my nose… And I’d try to do my hair like hers and even fucking dress like her. I’d always do things to try to make her think I was cool, too…”

She sighed. “And then one day, she stayed home sick from school. Both my parents were working, and we were all at school, so no one was home. But then my dad came home for lunch."

Nate swallowed nervously.

"He went upstairs to check on her…” She squeezed Nate’s hand extra hard. “And he found her hanging from a belt in her closet.”

Nate’s eyes widened. That was his biggest fucking fear with Zoey. 

“She was already dead when he found her, but he yanked on the belt until it broke, and he tried to do CPR. But she was gone.” 

It was the wrong thing to say. Nate wanted to vomit again.

“They pulled us out of school, and we thought something had happened to one of our grandparents. But no. It was Jennifer.” She looked at Nate. “We didn’t even know anything was wrong.”

Nate was silent. 

“Look, I just want you to know… I know what it feels like. I know. She was my favorite person in the entire world, and she was in so much pain. I never dreamed she’d do anything like that.” She laughed humorlessly. “I was ten; didn’t even fucking know what suicide was. But Nate… it’s not your fault.”

He looked away, scoffing quietly.

“It’s not your fault.” 

“You weren’t even here,” Nate snapped. “You don’t know what happened.”

Lisa didn't seem bothered by his tone. “I know what you just told me. And I know that Zoey makes her own choices. It’s not your job to fucking supervise her every second. I also know that you were only doing what you thought was right. What was best. And that’s all we can do.”

Nate didn’t respond. 

“How did she try to do it?” 

Nate cast his eyes down the sidewalk. His voice was scratchy with sadness when it came out. “She took a shit-ton of pills and then she got drunk. Or maybe she got drunk first, I don’t fucking know.” He swallowed. “And then she slit her fucking wrists in the bathroom.” 

Lisa asked quietly, “Who found her?”

Nate looked back at her, giving a tight smile in lieu of a response. 

She reached forward and gave him a huge hug, one he didn't want. “I love you,” she told him. 

“You, too.” 

“I’m so fucking sorry.” 

Nate tried to laugh. “Well, she’s not dead yet.”

“Nate,” Lisa murmured. 

He shook his head. “She’s not gonna make it, Lis. I just… I can feel it.” 

“Well,” she said gently, “I hope you’re fucking wrong.” 

“Me, too.” 

She ran a hand over his cheek. “You look fucking exhausted." 

He shrugged. “I got a couple hours of sleep last night. Dad went home and slept.” 

“You should go home, too.” 

“No,” he said sharply.

“Nate…” 

“Just because they won’t let me see her doesn’t mean that I’m gonna fucking leave,” he said firmly.

Lisa tilted her head sadly.

“I’m not leaving her. I… I fucking can’t.” 

“Nate…”

“ _No._ She wouldn’t leave me. I’m not leaving her either.” 

“Alright,” Lisa said softly. She wrapped an arm around him, her slender fingers running up and down his back. “I missed you so much,” she told him. 

“I missed you, too.” He was quiet, but then he added, “It’s not the same here without you.” 

“You’re sweet,” she replied.

Nate bolted up, remembering for the first time why Lisa had been gone in the first place. He’d been so fucking selfish, going on and on about his problems, and he hadn’t even thought about hers. “Lisa, I’m so fucking sorry,” he rushed out. “Oh my god, I’ve been so wrapped up here that I didn’t even think about it. I’m so-” 

“No, don’t fucking do that,” she interrupted, resting a hand on his knee. “Don’t give me the goddamn speech. One crisis at a time, alright?” 

They sat side by side, not speaking anymore, just being with each other through their pain. Nate was glad that Lisa had come to the hospital. And Lisa was glad that Nate had trusted her enough to call her and then give her his update. God knew he had more information about Zoey than anybody. She was glad that he opened up to her. 

The streetlamp cast an orange glow down on the pair. Lisa stayed until Nate's cell phone vibrated with a text message from Alvey. 

“I gotta get back in there,” Nate said regretfully. “You wanna come see her? She’s not awake or anything, but…” 

Lisa shook her head sadly. “I’m, uh. Not ready to see everybody just yet.” 

Nate nodded in understanding. “Alright.” 

“But… I’m back in LA for the time being-”

Nate’s eyebrows raised. 

“-so if you want to talk, just call. Okay?” 

He nodded. They stood up, and he walked her back to her car, which was still sitting at the curb. She got in, and he tucked his hands in his pockets and said quietly, “Hey, uh. She wrote you a fucking… suicide note. Do you want it? I didn't read it, and I don’t have it with me here, but-” 

“No,” she spat, her face a mix of fear and disgust.

He understood the feeling. “Okay.” 

“No fucking way.” 

“Alright.” 

“But…” She pursed her lips. “Don’t fucking get rid of it, alright? Keep it. Just… just in case.” 

Nate swallowed. “Yeah.” 

She gave him a small smile. 

“Alright. Well… drive safe.”

“Yeah. Call me tomorrow.”

“I will,” he promised. 

And with that, she drove away, and Nate headed back inside to see his comatose sister.

 

* * *

 

The phone rang and rang, and then it went to voicemail again. Sky sighed exasperatedly.

“Hey, this is Zee! Leave me a message, and I’ll probably call you back. Maybe not. I don’t fucking know.” There was a burst of laughter. “Jay, stop it! I’m-” And then a beep. 

“Hi,” Sky said into the phone. “The gym’s been closed for two days, and nobody’s answering their phones. Where the hell are you guys? If this is some kind of practical joke, it’s not funny.” She rubbed a hand over her forehead. “Just… call me back, okay? Please. I’m getting freaked out. Bye.”

 

* * *

 

Nate had been sitting at his sister’s side for about thirty minutes when there was an authoritative knock at the door. He looked up to see a pretty girl, maybe 26 or 27 years old, with thick blonde hair. 

“Hi,” she chirped, inviting herself into the room. “You must be Nate.” 

He gave her a single nod. 

“I’m Kelsey,” she smiled. “I work here at the hospital. I just wanted to talk to you for a few minutes.” 

He didn’t want to fucking talk to her; he had just been getting ready to try to convince himself that it was okay to fall asleep. But she definitely didn’t look like she was going to take no for an answer.

“This is your little sister, right?” she asked. 

He nodded again. 

“How old are you?”

He started to speak, but nothing came out. He gently cleared his throat. “Twenty-two.” 

“And she’s eighteen, yes?” 

Another nod.

“Your father told me that you and Zoey are incredibly close.”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. Well, Nate, I’m a grief counselor. I’ve already talked to your father about some arrangements, and after speaking with him, I knew I needed to come see you, too.” 

“Oh,” Nate stuttered. “I’m not – um. I’m not grieving.” He pointed at the heart monitor. “She’s still alive.” 

She gave him a sympathetic smile. “Nate, the doctors are saying that they don’t see her waking up.”

Nate blinked. He tried to let the jarring information roll off his back. “Oh,” he repeated, slowly this time. 

She looked troubled. “Did no one tell you?” 

“Uh… no.”

It felt like all the air had been sucked out of the room. He looked everywhere but at Kelsey and Zoey.

“How are you feeling right now?” she inquired. She looked at him expectantly and got her pen ready to write something down.

Nate scoffed, stuffing his hands into the pocket of his sweatshirt. He laughed dryly and shook his head.

“Nate?” she asked.

“Fuck you.” 

She didn’t seem fazed. “This is a normal response,” she told him. “I know it can be overwhelming to hear-”

“Get out,” he ordered. Screw courtesy. Screw fucking Kelsey, and screw her fucking grief. Nate didn’t need to grieve. His little sister was right next to him, and he wasn’t going to let her go fucking anywhere. Not while he was around. She was gonna be fine. She was gonna wake up, and she was gonna be _fine._ His nails dug hard into the soft palms of his hands. 

“I’m just trying to-”

He gritted his teeth and repeated, “Get. Out.”

She nodded, tucking her folder under her elbow and giving him another polite smile, which he missed. He was too busy giving the wall a hard stare. “Just ask a nurse for Kelsey if you change your mind.” 

She closed the glass door behind herself, and Nate waited several seconds before allowing his eyes to travel down to Zoey. Her hair was greasy. Her bandages needed to be changed. The skin under her eyes was turning purple, and her complexion was still too pale.

“If you fucking die,” he hissed at her, “I’m gonna fucking kill you. Do you hear me, Zoey? Are you fucking listening to me? I will kick your fucking ass.” He grabbed her fingers and squeezed hard. The nurses had warned him to be gentle with her, but Nate put that out of his head. “Do not fucking die on me, alright? Don’t you fucking dare. Don't-” He took in a sharp breath. “You stay right here. Okay? Don’t leave me again.” 

Yeah, he definitely wasn’t getting any sleep tonight.

 

* * *

 

It was past 2 AM when a boy with wild hair and even wilder eyes burst through the doors of the ICU. He flew past the rows of chairs, straight to his father. “Why the fuck didn’t you call me?” he spat.

“Calm down, pal,” Alvey said evenly. He’d been expecting something like this to happen once he knew Mac had word of what was going on. That blabbermouth. But it had taken longer than he’d expected for Jay to show up.

His voice came out almost like a growl. “Don’t fucking tell me to calm down!” 

But then Ryan was there, and he had a firm hand on Jay’s chest. “Your dad’s right,” he said quietly. “If you cause a scene, they’ll fucking throw you out. And then you’re no good to them again.” At Jay’s confused look, Ryan elaborated. “To Nate and Little Zee.” 

Jay nodded. A quick glance around the waiting room confirmed Ryan’s words; everyone was staring. Jay needed to tone it the fuck down. He shook his arms out and rolled his neck. “Okay,” he muttered. “Okay, yeah. You’re right.” He looked at Alvey. “Sorry.” 

Alvey nodded his acceptance of the apology.

“How – what the fuck happened?” he asked, his voice lower that time. "Mac said she’s in a fucking coma?” 

Alvey nodded. “Yeah.” 

“Fucking explain that to me,” he demanded. 

“Well, son… I don’t know what to tell you. Nate came home Friday night after dinner, and he went up to his room. About two minutes later, I hear him screaming.” 

Jay looked away, focusing his eyes on the muted TV screen. He swallowed hard.

“So I run upstairs,” Alvey continued, “and she’s bleeding out on the goddamn floor. She slit her wrists with a motherfucking razor blade. Nate’s right there in the middle of it all, got her blood all over him.” 

“Fuck,” Jay exhaled. 

He had the last traces of a high in his eyes, but he was coming down. Not hard, but… he’d be sober soon, and Alvey wasn’t sure what the hell to expect when that happened. "I drove, and Nate came here in an ambulance with Zo. Whenever they say someone can see her, he goes back there."

“Did he see her do it?” Jay asked urgently.

“No. No, there’s no way. There was blood fucking everywhere, and he’d just gotten home. It would have had to have been before he got back. They said she had ‘class four blood loss,’ which means she lost almost half her blood.” 

“So can’t they just put some more blood into her?”

“They did.”

“Then why the fuck is she still in a coma?” he asked angrily.

Alvey sighed, not wanting to admit what had happened. “She got her hands on my Valium.”

Jay looked pissed as fuck. “I told you to move it!” 

“I _did_ ,” Alvey countered loudly. A few people glanced over again, and he dropped his voice. “I did. She must have found it somehow. And she was drinking, so…”

“Where the fuck is Nate?” 

“He’s back there with her.” 

Jay started to get to his feet, but Alvey reached a hand out. “We’re letting him have as much time as he needs.” 

“What, you think she’s gonna fucking die?” he asked sarcastically.

At the tense silence, Jay started to understand the seriousness of the situation.

“Wait. You think she’s gonna fucking die?” he asked again, slower that time. Panic started seeping into his eyes. “Is she gonna fucking die?” He turned to his best friend and said desperately, “Ryan. Ryan, is she gonna die?”

Ryan was lost for words. What the fuck was he supposed to say? No? _Yes?_ He just shrugged. 

“Where the fuck is Nate?” Jay demanded again.

“Jay-” Alvey said calmly.

“No. Where the fuck is my brother?!”

 

* * *

 

The nurses had forced Nate out of the room to change Zoey’s bandages, take more blood, and do some other things they didn’t specify.

He was waiting in a chair at the end of the hallway, thinking himself into a panic. He kept trying to remind himself to calm his breathing, but it was nearing three in the morning, and there was no one around who would notice whether or not he broke down. Nate let his head fall into his hands.

_You’re my little sister. I’m always gonna protect you. I promise._

_If I mean so much to you two, why doesn’t anybody see that I’m hurting?_

_I know you guys think somebody touched me. But that’s not… that’s not what happened. He…_

_I’m worried about her. She’s not fucking right._

_You don’t have to be happy. Just be yourself. Or else it’s gonna feel like there’s a stranger living inside you, and you’ll never be happy._

_It’s been tough. She's the littlest, so... We just hope she’s safe. We want her to come home._

_What do you think this is, huh? You making a fucking - you making a choice here? You're making a big fucking mistake. You understand me? You're gonna fuck everything up._

_You’re still my sister, okay? Don't you get that? No matter what happened to you, no matter what you’ve been through or what you’re doing now or what you’ll be doing in a month, you’re still my little sister, and you’re still my best friend, and I still-_

_I know you love me, and I love you, too. But I see you as a coach. Not a father. So we don’t have to keep having all these dinners where we act like we have a real fucking relationship._

_Lisa lost the baby a few days ago. I don't have much information, but… he's gone._

_Stay. Have a drink, Nate. What do you say?_

_I love you no matter what, Nate. Okay?_

_If you go back at him, he's just gonna give you more money. And you'll take it. And then… then he'll own you. How the fuck do you think I got here?_

_You're a great athlete, Nate. I don't know if you're a great fighter. And the difference between good and great is immense. It's... it's a fucking hundred miles. It's a mindset. It’s a mental fucking illness that I don’t see in you._

_I don’t know if I can change. I don’t want to._

_Every day I think you’re gonna be gone again, or you’re gonna be covered in blood, or I’m gonna walk into a room and find you hanging from a fucking ceiling fan!_

_I didn’t mean to scare you. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Nate, I don’t know what’s wrong with me._

_You're gonna fucking die in here, and I need you. Zebra needs you, she’s gonna do something really bad. I can feel it. And I need you, Jay. I don’t know what I’m doing with the gym, and Zebra, and Mom, and Dad, and - and me, okay? I need you, Jay. Can you hear what I'm saying to you? I. Need. You. Please come home._

_You’re my best friend, Nate._

_You gonna live your whole life this way?_

_She’s not doing well._

_Nate, the doctors are saying that they don’t see her waking up._  

Nate was grinding his teeth so hard that he was giving himself a headache. How the fuck was he supposed to turn his brain off? He couldn’t. 

And then for some reason, his whole family was making their way into the corridor. Was he dreaming? No… no, he wasn’t. Tears didn’t burn in his eyes like that in his dreams. He could feel his lips twisting, but he was too tired to try to stop it. 

“Where the fuck are they?” came a familiar voice.

The word slipped out before Nate could stop himself. “Jay?”

“Nate!” Jay shoved forward and headed quickly for his little brother.

At the sight of Jay rushing toward him, Nate let himself truly break down.

“Nate,” Jay repeated, his stomach seizing up at the sight of Nate – strong, brave Nate – in so much pain. “Come here, come here,” Jay murmured, bending down in front of Nate’s chair and throwing his arms around his brother. 

Nate buried his face in his brother’s shoulder, but Ryan and Alvey could still see his body convulsed with distressed sobs. 

“I’m here,” Jay assured him, hugging him tightly. He sank down to his knees and pulled Nate closer. 

Nate was crying too hard to breathe evenly, but he still managed to force out, “Don’t go.”

“I won’t,” Jay promised. “Not going fucking anywhere.”

Nate dug his fingers into Jay’s shoulders, holding on tight. “Don’t go,” he whispered again.

“Nate,” Jay murmured, “I’m not gonna leave you, man.” 

“Don’t go.” 

“I won’t,” Jay repeated gently, switching from trying to convince him to trying to soothe him. “Breathe,” he said softly, rubbing steady circles between Nate’s shoulder blades. “Breathe. I'm here now. I've got you.”

“Jay, she’s gonna die,” Nate whispered.

Jay hadn’t heard Nate cry like this in his entire fucking life. Not once had Nate cried so freely, even when he was a kid. Never. “Shhhh,” Jay whispered, trying not to cry himself. He was so confused… so scared… He'd been thrown into this at a hundred fucking miles an hour. Though he supposed everyone else had been as well.

“I don’t want her to die,” Nate said, almost pleadingly. 

“I know, monkey, I know.” He could feel every shuddering sob passing through Nate’s lungs and a tear from Nate’s face trickling down his own neck. “I know. It’s okay, Nate. I know. I’m here now, and I’m not going anywhere.” 

Nate nodded. 

Jay pulled back a little and glanced over at Ryan and Alvey for support. Ryan was staring at Nate, looking absolutely heartbroken, and Alvey had turned and walked several feet away. 

Jay turned back to Nate, taking his little brother’s tear-streaked face in his hands to study. “When’s the last time you slept, huh?” he asked. 

“Last night.” 

“No,” Ryan interjected. 

Jay glanced up at him. 

“It doesn’t count,” Ryan explained.

“When did you last get fucking real sleep, Nate?” Jay pressed.

Nate sniffed and shrugged. 

“Tell me,” Jay commanded gently.

“Um,” Nate stalled, trying to think back. The night before was the one where they'd come in the ambulance. He’d managed a few hours of rest in the chair. And the night before that, he’d slept at home. So… “Almost two days,” he admitted. 

Jay nodded, not surprised. He stroked a hand down Nate’s cheek. “You need to rest,” he said softly. 

Nate tearfully shook his head. 

“Nate,” Jay murmured, but Nate only shook his head faster. “Okay. Okay, come here.” He pulled Nate back into an embrace. “We’re gonna get Mac on the phone and find you a fucking place to sleep, okay?” 

“No,” Nate protested frantically, pushing Jay away.

“Yeah.”

“No, I promised Zebra I wouldn’t leave. I can’t leave. I can’t leave.” 

“Nate.”

 _“You don’t understand!”_ he blurted out.

The outburst had Alvey turning around, but Jay still appeared calm. “What don’t I understand?” he asked patiently.

Nate’s shame was written across his face. When he blinked, another tear leaked out, but he smeared it off. “This… all of this is my fucking fault.”

“No,” Ryan countered again. Jay silently wrapped his hands around the back of Nate’s neck, ready to listen.

"It is. I knew she was going to do this, Jay. I fucking knew! And I didn't say anything." His voice broke weakly.

“You fucking listen to me right now,” Jay murmured, pressing his forehead to Nate’s. “This is _not_ your fault, Nate. Not even a little bit.” When Nate was still, Jay asked, “Do you fucking hear me, Nate? Look at me. Fucking look at me. This is not your fault. You did everything right.”

Nate nodded halfheartedly. Jay hadn’t been there. Jay had no fucking idea what had gone on. But Nate needed the words, needed them so badly that he let his fingers wrap around Jay’s wrists (his whole, clean, scar-free wrists) and hold on.

Jay leaned forward and pressed a long kiss to his cheek. “Let’s get you somewhere to sleep, yeah?” 

Nate still wasn’t sure about that, but Ryan was already dialing Mac’s number, and things went quickly after that. Before Nate knew it, he was in a dark room with several hanging curtains. Neither brother flipped on the light.

Jay held out a hand. "Take your pick."

Nate went to the curtain furthest from the door and found a bed and thin sheets. There was a scratchy blanket hanging over the foot of the bed, and Jay unfolded it. Nate slid off his shoes and checked the bottom of his feet; still stained red. 

“Is that blood?” Jay asked gravely.

Nate hadn't thought he'd be able to see it in the dark. He looked up at Jay and gave him one small nod. 

“Zoey’s?”

Another nod.

“Shit.” 

Nate pushed the waistband of his sweats down and stepped out of them, leaving them crumpled on the floor. Jay helped him undo the tight covers from the cot and tucked them back over him.

He rested his head on the pillow and was alarmed at the way his eyelids instantly grew heavy. “I can’t do this,” Nate stated as he sat up, but Jay quickly pushed him back down. 

“Here’s the deal. If in ten minutes, you’re still awake and you want to go back and see her, I’ll let you. Swear to fucking god,” he vowed, holding his fingers up like the Boy Scout salute.

Nate searched Jay’s face, but Jay was looking right into Nate's eyes. He wasn’t lying. “Alright,” Nate muttered. Then he pointed at his brother. “ _Ten_ minutes.”

“Ten minutes.” 

Jay sat down in the chair by the bed, and Nate stared at him. 

Jay gave him a small smile. 

“Hey… I’m glad you came, man,” Nate said softly. 

“Yeah,” Jay replied, reading a hand out to stroke Nate’s forearm. “A little birdy told me that you needed me. So…” He withdrew his hand and sat back in his chair. “Ay, but don’t fucking talk to me, dude. Go to sleep.” 

“You never said I couldn’t talk,” Nate pointed out, but he fell quiet after that. Jay didn’t speak either. 

God, it felt so good to stretch out. He hadn't realized how badly his spine had been aching. And it felt even better to have his feet up. He got comfortable in the bed. Even if he didn’t actually let himself sleep, it couldn’t hurt to rest his body for a few minutes, right? 

But before he could think of much else, Nate was fast asleep. 

Jay sat with his brother for a while, hidden in the dark behind the curtain. Now that Nate was taken care of, he had to face reality again. He was likely going to lose his sister. Possibly in the next few hours. 

He swallowed and rubbed at his temples, trying to keep the intensity of his feelings down to a minimum. He got up carefully from the plastic chair, parted the curtain as quietly as he could, and snuck back out of the room. It was on Mac’s floor, and the man had promised to keep an eye on Nate. At least that thought was comforting.

Jay headed to the elevator and back down to the first floor. He nodded at Alvey, who looked at him expectantly, wanting some sort of update on Nate. “He fell asleep in like two seconds,” Jay said.

“Good, good,” Alvey nodded. 

"Has he been like that the whole time?" Jay asked quietly. 

"No. No, he's been... he's been quiet. Same as usual. He had a panic attack the first night we were here... That was bad. Had to get a nurse to come calm him down, but, um. No, mostly the same as usual." 

"And why didn't you call me the second you guys found her?" 

Alvey pursed his lips. "He told me not to."

Jay turned to look at his father. "Nate told you not to call me," he repeated, not believing it. 

"I don't know why," Alvey said, putting his hands up. "But he was upset, so I did what he wanted."

Jay didn't respond.

“You… you wanna go see her?”

“Of course," Jay answered immediately, biting his lip.

Alvey nodded. “Alright. Let’s give Ryan a few more minutes, though. He’s barely left since he got here – he’s been taking care of the dog, and my house, and Nate…” 

Jay’s face changed, and Alvey had figured out in therapy with Zoey what that expression meant. He bumped Jay with his shoulder. “Hey. I’m glad you’re here, son. Truly.”

Jay nodded. “Yeah,” he said softly.

"I wouldn't have known what the fuck to do with Nate, but you handled that like a champ."

Jay's face remained expressionless as he nodded again.

 

* * *

 

 

Ryan came out on his own a few minutes later, and he seemed surprised to see Jay back so soon. “Nate asleep?” he asked. 

“Yeah,” Jay replied. 

“Do you think Mac would mind if I…?” he asked.  
  
“No, yeah, go ahead,” Jay said. “There’s fucking nobody up there man.”

Ryan nodded and started for the elevator, but Jay stopped him. 

“Hey, dude. Thanks for taking care of my family. Thank you. I know I haven’t been here, so just… thanks, bro.” 

Ryan shrugged off the gratitude. “Hey, don’t fucking mention it, man.”

The pair shared a tight embrace.

“I love you, bro,” Ryan said. 

“I love you, too.” 

And then Ryan did go.

“It’s all yours,” Alvey said to Jay, motioning to Zoey’s room.

Jay took a deep breath and then headed for the door.


	15. Chapter 15

Jay went quickly to Zoey’s side and slid into the chair Nate had been living in. He lifted one of her hands, careful to avoid touching her bandages or dislodging her IV as he moved her. Once he was sure he was in the clear, he sandwiched her hand between both of his and looked down at her. He was quiet a long time, not sure whether to laugh or cry. How the fuck had this happened?

Even though Zoey was unconscious, she still looked so tired. Her skin was washed out under the fluorescent lights, and he couldn’t see her wounds or the stitches, but the white bandages covering them traveled from her palm to nearly her elbow. Fuck. He couldn’t imagine her cutting that into her skin. He couldn’t imagine Nate finding her with those injuries. He didn’t want to think about how Nate must have felt seeing all that blood gushing out of his little sister… 

“I should have fucking been here,” Jay finally said, his voice scratchy with emotion. “I…” He lifted a hand up to his mouth and then took it away. He didn’t get to hide from this. Not today. “I fucking let you down _again_ , and I’m sorry.

“I don’t know if you can hear me, but… well, I hope you fucking can. I love you. I hope you know that. I know I haven’t been there for you, but I love you so much. Nothing will ever fucking change that.

“You know, when you were a kid, you always wanted to be around me. We never fought. Fucking never. Then you got into junior high, and you were this little… firecracker. You got so fucking mad at me some days.” He chuckled. “You were sassy as fuck, and you just tore into – everybody. But I knew you were hurting. You didn’t have that many friends, and you were missing Mom a lot then. I know that. But you still gave me a hug every night before you went to bed, even if we’d been snapping at each other during the day. That was new for me, cause I was used to Dad, who either loved me or didn’t. But you were different.”

He swallowed. “Nate says you think you’re like Dad. He says you think you’re like Mom, too. But you’re not. You’re not like them at all. You’re like _you_ , Zee. And I don’t…” He let his face crumble. “I don’t want to fucking lose you. Okay? I know it’s too fucking late, and you needed to hear that a long time ago. You probably-”

He sniffed wetly.

“-hate me now, but I’ll never hate you. Fucking never. You and Nate are the fucking reason I’m still alive, Zoey. It got fucking dark sometimes.” He held her hand tighter. “But I always had you two to look after. And it was exhausting, just fucking trying to make rent. And I had to put food on the table and ask you about your teachers and your homework and what you were watching on TV and not let you see how I felt… but I knew you needed me, so I kept doing it. I kept going. And you grew up, and I couldn’t see it as well anymore, but you still needed me. And I left you. Both of you.” He wiped his nose on his shoulder. “I’m so sorry, monkey.

“I don’t know if this is my fault, or the guy that hurt you’s fault, or fucking nobody’s fault. But Mac called me an hour ago and told me what you did, and I – I haven’t been that scared since Nate got hurt.” He closed his eyes. “I think I’m actually more afraid now. Because then I knew that they’d stitch him up and he’d be fine. But this isn’t like that. This isn’t like fucking anything I know. We lean on Ryan for answers, but he can’t give them to us. He’s not you. And you’re not here,” Jay said, his voice breaking. “I can’t ask you what happened, I can’t ask you why you did it or what the fuck you were thinking…”

He opened his eyes and looked at her, letting his anger through. “What the fuck were you thinking, Zoey? What the _fuck?_ Why would you – why didn’t you fucking talk to someone? Why did you give up? I didn’t give up on you, so why the fuck are you giving up on me? I would have never done this to you! Fucking _never!_ ”

Jay’s mind caught up with his mouth, and he tried to calm himself down. The room was quiet for a moment.

“I didn’t – I know it’s not that simple. I’m trying to… understand.” He gave an emotionless laugh. “Can you just fucking wake up so we can talk to you? I – I need some answers, alright?” 

He shook his head. “I’m so fucking mad at you. And I’m so fucking mad at myself. And Alvey and Nate didn’t even bother to call me and tell me this happened. Everybody fucking knew except me. But I still care, okay? I know you think I don’t, but I do, I swear to fucking god. I’m just having a lot of, um, emotions. At the moment. So.” He cleared his throat. “I guess I need some time to… figure things out.” He nodded. “Yeah. Figure things out.”

He tapped lightly on the back of her hand, dropping his emotional monologue and shifting his thoughts to what she’d say if she were awake, what she’d be wondering inside her head if she’d just heard all of that. 

“So,” he said softly. “I’m okay. I’m okay. Everybody’s… we’re fucking dealing with it.” He sniffed, this time just from the coke and not from a runny nose. “I made fucking Nate go to sleep. He hasn’t slept since before you guys got here, I guess. He was – fucking – bawling in the hallway. I’ve never seen him do anything like that before. I think he was so fucking sleep deprived that he let everything out for once.”

He shook his head, trying to clear the image from his head. “And Ryan… he’s been taking care of Nate and Dad. Bringing them food and checking on the house and the dog and stuff. So, um. That’s good. Maybe he’s been taking care of you, too. I hope so. But um, he’s upstairs sleeping, too. So they’re still here, but. Yeah. Nate wouldn’t leave you. He looked fucking bad, though, so I kind of wrestled him into it. And Alvey… I don’t know about him. I think he was crying earlier, but I’m not sure. He looks almost as bad as Nate.”

Tears filled Jay’s eyes again, but he didn’t speak. He let himself cry in the quiet room for a few moments. He wanted to get high. He never wanted to get high again. He wanted to get high.

He spared a glance at his phone, desperate for a way to distract himself, even for a mere moment. Two missed calls from Ava and nothing else. He suddenly felt worse. What the hell was he doing with that girl? He didn’t even like her. And look what had happened to his family while he was gone. It fucking collapsed.

Zoey broke. She fucking broke. Literally. She broke, and she hurt herself, and she didn’t say a fucking word. Just decided to stop. Nate didn’t matter to her – that’s how fucking bad it was. Jay couldn’t fathom that. Through all his depression, through the hardest times of his life, he’d always gone on for his family. But Zoey couldn’t do that. Jay didn’t want to think about how awful that must have felt. He looked down at her, realizing that he’d spent several minutes staring at the white wall. 

He ran his thumb over the back of Zoey’s hand and tried to push her ruined skin out of his imagination. He couldn’t stop thinking about what she must have looked like under the bandages. How many stitches would it have taken to sew her up? How much did it hurt when she cut herself? Were the gashes different depths on each arm? How much blood was on the floor at the house? 

Suddenly, he couldn’t hold her hand anymore. He quickly let go and ran his fingers over his own wrists, glad that they were intact. He shut his eyes and pressed the heels of his hands into them, forcing himself to see pink stars. 

“I love you,” he muttered, not taking his hands away, “but I have to go. I have to go.”

He couldn't help but imagine her begging him to stay, but he banged out the glass door anyway.

“Jay?” Alvey called, but Jay ignored him and jogged out to the parking lot.

He needed to get out, away from the hospital, away from the crying and the hopelessness, away from the fucking ventilator that his sister was attached to. His slip-ons slapped against the pavement like Zoey’s flip flops so often did, and that made him feel worse. He got behind the wheel, cranked the key, and slammed the old truck into gear.

He drove.

 

* * *

  

Alvey watched Jay storm out the doors of the ICU and run to the parking deck. He sighed tiredly and went into his daughter’s room. There was no one to fill the space at her side, so he figured that he might as well.

Alvey shut the door behind himself and flipped off the overhead light. He took a seat in the chair, right where Jay had left it. The only illumination in the room was the glow from the monitors on the wall and the sliver of orange light seeping in from the hallway.

“Your brothers need you,” Alvey said into the darkness, “so you better fucking wake up.”

 

* * *

 

Ryan dreamt of his father, out of his wheelchair and sitting at a table next to Zoey. They had a checkerboard between them and seemed to have been playing for a few minutes. It was unclear who was winning. Ryan called out to them, and Zoey didn’t seem to hear him, but his father did. He looked over and gave Ryan a peaceful smile. 

Two beds over, Nate dreamt of a waterfall made of blood.

 

* * *

 

As soon as Mac was allowed to take his break, he went straight downstairs to see Zoey. He turned the light on in her room and was surprised to find Alvey in the chair.

“Hey, coach,” he greeted softly. 

Alvey turned. He’d thought the disturbance had just been a nurse coming in to check her IV or do more tests. He didn’t realize that he’d be so glad to see his friend “Hey,” Alvey replied, standing up. 

Mac waved him back down and pulled the other chair out from the wall and to Alvey’s side. Alvey watched his fighter scan the machines and then sigh.

“Bad?” Alvey asked.

Mac shrugged. “She’s… I mean, she’s still in the coma. I thought she might have transferred into just sleeping by now.”

“It’s been days now,” Alvey said.

Mac looked over. “Why didn’t you call me?”

Alvey shrugged. “Eh, I don’t fucking know. I wasn’t thinking. And then Nate was fucking losing it, so…”

“Yeah, Ryan said he’s having a really fucking tough time.” 

“Well, what the hell do you expect?” Alvey asked, but his tone wasn’t accusing. Just drained. 

“Which nurse you got?” Mac inquired. 

“Uh... Nice- nice African American girl. Tanisha.”

“Oh, she’s great,” Mac nodded.

“Yeah, I think Nate likes her. She’s nice to him. Brings him water and stuff.”

“Yeah, that’s Tanisha.” He clapped Alvey on the shoulder. “Well, I gotta get back up there, but anything goes wrong, you call. Got it?” 

“Thanks, man. Thanks for coming down.” 

“No problem.” Mac nodded and headed to the doorway. When he got there, he pointed to the light switch. “On or off?”

“Um, off. Please.” 

The room plunged back into darkness.

 

* * *

 

The old pickup bumped into Alvey’s driveway too quickly. Jay slammed the brakes on and jammed the gearshift into park. The car lurched, but he already had the door open and one foot on the driveway.

He rushed up to the sliding door and punched the code in. Abigail was waiting for him at the door, but he shoved past her, ignoring her. She seemed to sense his mood; she retreated to where he could no longer see her. He would have felt guilty, but he was too upset to think of anything but what he came here to do.

He jogged up the stairs, but quickly stopped halfway up. A flash of red had caught his eye, and he looked down – there were bloody footprints on every stair, and they got darker as they went up. Nate. He'd seen the bloody soles of his brother's feet, but he didn't realize that the house would look like this.

Jay swallowed and followed the prints, slower then. He wasn’t sure he was ready to see what his family had seen. It was already like a horror movie, and he wasn't even in the right part of the house yet.

Zoey’s door had been left flung open, and Jay could smell a foul stench before he even got through the doorway. He switched on her ceiling fan to try to help air the room out.

There was a pile of vomit on the floor by the window - that was the smell. The light was still on in her bathroom, and right outside the door, there was a huge, dark, maroon puddle staining the carpet. Jay walked closer. All across the tile was red blood. Honestly, it looked as though someone had dumped it out of a bucket. But this had come out of his sister. Fucking hell, there was so much of it.

He could kind of tell where she must have been sitting, because a bit of the tile was clean, and then around it was where the red was thickest.

He raised a shaky hand to his mouth and sat down, staring at it. 

God bless Nate. That fucking kid had walked right into this with no warning. 

Jay leaned against the doorjamb and took a few deep breaths. What the fuck had he been thinking, just going off and leaving them all? This was his fault.

He should have fucking been there.

He let his eyes travel around the room, and they landed on a stack of unopened envelopes on her bed. He got up, sniffed, and went toward them. He sat down on her bed and flipped through them. Nate, Jay (he set his aside), Lisa, Ryan, and Daddy.

Jay stared at the back of his envelope for nearly a minute before he got up the nerve to open it. He tore through the seal and gently slid the paper out.

 

_Jay –_

_Nate says you’re going to be really upset about me doing this, but I know you’re strong. I need you to look out for him just like always. Take care of each other._   
_Remember when I told you what happened to me? I talked about how you told me to keep fighting and I couldn’t because I was so tired. That’s what’s happening right now. I can’t keep fighting this. It’s too fucking much._   
_The guy came in the old house and hurt me. I left. I thought I was helping myself, and more, that I was helping you and Nate. You wouldn’t have to worry about me anymore. But then Ry brought me back and I thought things were better. You and Nate were so happy to see me. And then everything went bad again. You were gone and we got robbed, and those guys tied me up and left me on the ground and took everything, and I couldn’t fucking stop them. It was horrible._  
_It’s never going to get better. Seeing Sam has made me realize this. I love him, and he helped in some ways. He helped me get my voice back after it was missing. But I can tell too that no matter what happens, I'll never feel okay like I used to. That part of me is gone forever. I don't want to live without it._  
_I know I’ve been a burden, and I’m sorry. But I won’t be anymore. You guys are free now._  
_I hope you’re happy with Ava. I’m sorry for being angry and selfish. I just missed you a lot and it hurt that you didn’t care. But I need you to take care of Nate, alright? Please. That’s the most important thing._  
_I hope you know that I always loved you. I really do mean that. You gave me the world – and even if you hadn’t, it wouldn’t matter. You’re my dad, not Alvey. You always have been. I’m glad you see that too._  
_Thank you, Jay. For everything.  
_ _I love you X_

_Zee_

 

It took nearly six minutes for Jay to read the entire thing. Between breaks for crying (that last part about being her dad was the hardest), he read each sentence twice before he moved to the next one. It was so hard to process that this was her goodbye. It didn't feel like enough. She had summed up their whole life together on a single piece of notebook paper. That wasn't even fucking _close_ to enough. 

Jay slid the letter back into the envelope and stood. He went to the kitchen for some cleaning stuff and a roll of paper towels, and then he headed back up to his little sister’s bedroom. He dealt with the vomit first, picking up what he could and then spraying the carpet with ten-minute cleaner. He glanced at the clock on his phone and made a mental note of when the ten minutes would be up.

Then he turned and looked at the blood on the bathroom floor. Somehow, it didn’t seem as bad as when he’d seen it the first time. He sprayed it all over and waited a few moments to let it start lifting.

When he felt ready, he started scrubbing.

 

* * *

 

Zoey was aware of a faint beeping in the background of her thoughts. She was so tired, but it was persistent and loud enough that it started to annoy her. She couldn’t really move, but she could feel that she was covered in a thin layer of sweat.

Something happened, and all of a sudden, she started to choke. There was something - something big - lodged in her throat and blocking her airway. She struggled to breathe.

The beeping grew faster, and there was a voice. “It’s okay, it’s okay. I’ll be right back. I’ll be right back. You’re okay.”

A moment later, there were more voices, and then Zoey could feel someone moving her. Her face felt colder. She didn’t know why. 

There was a calm female voice over her, and then she started to feel worse. She would have grabbed onto something to help combat the pain, but her body was frozen.

She willed it to be over soon. 

There was something warm over her hand. It felt like… it felt like a hand, too. A big, calloused hand. She tried to focus on the gentle squeeze coming from that instead of the hurting. She was starting to grow dizzy from the lack of air.

Then there was a pop, and air filled her lungs. There was a collective happy murmur from the room, and in a few moments, the beeping sound slowed significantly. That was much less annoying. The warm hand stayed in place. 

She slept.

 


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much to everyone who waited so patiently for me to update  
> thank you to the kind souls who messaged me concerned after i posted that picture on tumblr a few days ago  
> a huge thank you to those of you that have been messaging me; this chapter wouldn't have been completed without you  
> and an extra special thank you to a few of you who sent me art. there are no words to describe how wonderful and excited i feel inside when i see the submissions in my inbox
> 
> i had to get through all this and i was so tired of writing it and life is blah but i managed thanks to you  
> thank you for that  
> i love my zoey and i dont want to abandon her if i can help it  
> next week (this week?) there will be a change of scenery so maybe i can get into it a little more
> 
> again, thank you for being patient with me and understanding that life goes upside down sometimes  
> yall are the best

The dull pain in Zoey’s arms started to slowly grow sharper. It grew so intense that it jarred her from sleep. Fuck, it hurt. 

She forced her eyes to flutter open, and she was met with a blank ceiling. It didn’t look like the one in her room. She turned her head slightly to the side, and there was her father. What was he doing in her room? Or  _not_  her room. Wherever she was.

“Dad?” she tried to ask, but all that came out was air. “Daddy?” she tried again.

He looked up from his phone. At the sight of her open eyes, relief coursed through him. “Hey,” he exhaled, his eyes wide. “Hey, kiddo.”

Zoey just looked at him, her face expressionless.

“How do you feel?” 

“Hurts,” she murmured. 

“Okay. Okay. D-do you know where you are?”

She shook her head.

“Alright,” Alvey said, quickly leaning forward. “Don’t- don’t move. Don’t fucking move, alright? We’re at the hospital. You’re in the ICU.” 

Zoey blinked, surprised by the answer. “Is Nate okay?” she rasped. 

“Yeah, he’s fine.” 

“Jay?”

“Yeah.” 

“Ryan?”

“Everybody’s fine, kid. It’s just you in here.”

Her eyes fell shut again, but she forced them open. “What happened?”

“You don’t remember?” Alvey asked with a sad smile.

She shook her head again. 

“You tried to kill yourself. Damn near succeeded, too.” 

Her eyes remained blank. “It… it didn’t work?”

Alvey looked truly upset then. “No, Zo, it didn’t fucking work.”

She looked away and swallowed. “My arms hurt,” she muttered.

“Okay. Let me go get someone, alright?” 

Zoey closed her eyes and waited. 

Alvey returned a few moments later with a nurse who had a happy face sticker on her nametag. “Nice to finally see you awake, baby girl,” she smiled as she turned the overhead light on. “You have pretty eyes.”

Zoey didn’t respond, but the woman didn’t seem bothered. She moved around the bed, injecting something into an IV, pushing some buttons on a monitor, and disconnecting something else that Zoey couldn’t see. 

“Alright, baby,” she said. “I put some painkillers in there for you. They should kick in in a few minutes.”

Zoey nodded gratefully.

“You have a sweet family,” the nurse continued. “I know that you feel awful right now, but they are  _so_  glad that you are alive.” Tanisha nodded at Alvey and then exited.

“Where’s Nate?” Zoey finally asked. Her voice was still raspy, partly from lack of use but mostly from the ventilator tube.

“Upstairs. Mac found an empty room. Ryan’s up there, too. They’re sleeping.”

Zoey nodded. “How long have I been here?” 

“We’re getting into the third day now.” 

Zoey’s eyes widened. She’d been expecting him to say a few hours. 

“That’s why Nate’s asleep,” Alvey continued. “He’s been in here the whole time you’ve been here. He couldn’t stay awake anymore; he was gonna make himself sick.” 

“And Jay?”

“He was here for a while, and then he stormed out. I don’t know what happened.” 

The father and daughter fell quiet. The only sound in the room was the beeping of the monitors.

 

* * *

 

 

Three quick raps on the door got the attention of both Kulinas. 

“Hi,” a man said. “I need to ask Zoey some questions.” 

“She just woke up,” Alvey said, a little bit of disbelief leaking into his voice. “Like ten minutes ago.”

“The doctor said it was alright.” He looked to Zoey. “Do you feel up to it?” 

She shrugged and then nodded.

“Okay. I’m Aaron Hotchner. I’m a mental health crisis counselor here at Larkin. I understand that you hurt yourself?”

 Zoey blinked and cast her eyes down.

“Yes,” Alvey supplied.

“Can you tell me what was going on?”

She shrugged uncomfortably. 

“I know it can be strange to talk about. But that’s exactly  _why_  we need to talk about it. I need to help figure out what kind of treatment you need.” 

She didn’t speak, so he continued. 

“I’m going to ask you some questions, and I want you to answer as honestly as you can.” He lifted up the top page on his clipboard and folded it over, readying a pen. “When you hurt yourself on Friday, were you attempting suicide?”

She hesitated and then nodded.

“And what did you do to yourself?” 

She quietly cleared her throat. “I got drunk. I took all the Valium in my dad’s bottle – I don’t know how many pills it was. And then I went in my room and slit my wrists.”

She looked ashamed. Alvey was glad that his sons weren’t there to hear her talk like this. It would kill them. 

“Got it,” the man replied, writing for a moment. He’d clearly heard many stories like this before. Although his voice was kind, he didn’t seem affected at all. “What was going on that led you to that?” 

She shrugged.

“Anything clear that you’d like to mention? You don’t have to talk about it now, but it does help me decide what kind of treatment will be best for you.”

She shook her head, avoiding his eyes.

“Got it. Okay. I’m going to read a sentence, and I want you to tell me if it’s true or false. There are no wrong answers here. Just tell me what you think.” 

She nodded. 

“I regularly drink alcohol.” 

“False.” Maybe she should have said 'true,' but alcohol wasn't an issue. Her answer would suffice.

“I take illegal drugs.”

“Um. Sometimes. Not really.” 

“Which ones?” 

“Just pot.” 

“I have been arrested.”

“False.” 

“I often feel depressed.” 

“True.”

“I sleep too much or not enough.” 

“True.”

“To which?”

“Um, too much.”

“Got it. I have chronic pain.” 

“False.”

“I have sought help in the past for mental health issues.”

“True.” 

"In what form?" he asked.

"I went to therapy for a couple months."

He made a note and then said, “I take medication that is prescribed to me.”

“False. I don't have any,” she said.

“I take medication that is  _not_  prescribed to me.” 

“False.”

“I engage in self harm.”

“True.” 

Without looking up, he asked, “What kind?”

“Cutting. And reckless behavior.” 

“And how often?”

“It used to be off and on, but then… pretty much every day,” she admitted.

He nodded and wrote down her words. “Got it.” Then he jumped back in. “I have attempted suicide before.”

“False.”

“I have someone in my life that I can talk to.”

She thought of Nate. “True.” 

“My family loves me.”

She thought of Nate again, and how Alvey had told her that Nate hadn't left her side. “True.” 

“I have friends.”

“Um… a few.”

“My family and friends would be better off without me.” 

She swallowed, embarrassed to answer in front of her father, but part of her wanted to see if her answer would hurt him. She answered honestly. “True.”

“I felt like suicide was my only option.”

No hesitation that time. “True.”

Alvey was watching his youngest child, amazed that she’d kept all these dark thoughts and feelings inside of herself so well. But his face didn’t change. Zoey didn’t let hers either. 

“I have hope for the future.” 

Zoey stalled a moment, weighing the question. “False,” she decided.

The man made one more note and then nodded. “Alright. It’s going to take me a few hours to get all of this processed and then find a bed somewhere for you. But regardless, you’ll still be here for a while; your body still needs some time to heal before we can start working on your mind.” He started to head for the door, but Alvey stopped him.

“Doc.”

The man turned.

“Is there… I mean, what are you recommending here? Is she gonna have to move somewhere else?” 

“Well,” he replied, “she won’t have to  _move._  But after an attempted suicide, we have to put her on a psych hold at the absolute minimum. They last at least 72 hours.”

“And is that here in the hospital, or…?” 

“It could be, but based on this information, I’d really like to send her to UCLA. I’ll see what their availability is, and then I have to talk to the doctors to make sure they agree.” He looked to Zoey. “It was nice to meet you. And I hope that things get better for you soon.” 

Zoey was quiet. When it became clear that she wasn’t going to speak, Alvey filled in for her. “Thanks.”

The man left, and Alvey looked at his daughter, who was intentionally avoiding his eyes. He wanted to tell her he was sorry, but he couldn’t make the words come out. He didn’t know what the fuck to say. He wished she knew that he wasn’t better off without her. He didn’t know if he was better  _with_  her, but he didn’t want her gone. Yeah. He definitely didn’t want her gone. At least for her brothers’ sake.

A few minutes later, Tanisha showed up. “Your arms still hurt, baby?”

Zoey nodded. 

“Alright. I’m gonna give you a little more of the pain reliever and then something to help you go back to sleep. I know your body is tired.” While she walked around the room and fidgeted with the IVs, she looked at Alvey. “Did Aaron come by?” 

“Was that the guy with the clipboard?”

She smiled. “Yeah, that would be him. Sounds like once we get you stable, you’ll be on your way.” 

Zoey shut her eyes, annoyed with the nurse's chipper personality. She wished with her entire being that something would go wrong and she would still die.

 

* * *

 

Nate made his way quickly through the maze of the hospital stairways and halls. He rushed into the Intensive Care Unit and to his sister’s room. He stopped short in the doorway; she was awake. 

His face was unreadable to his father, but he knew that Zoey could see the relief and urgency written across it. She’d been looking when he entered the room as though she’d known he was on his way to her.

Her bed had been propped up a little, and she was leaning back on it, looking exhausted as fuck. She still had thick bandages around her arms and an IV attached on her right.

Nate walked briskly to her left side and leaned down to give her the best hug he could manage while still being gentle. She tilted her head into his shoulder, squeezing her eyes shut. Her bandages scratched at his sides through his t-shirt. 

He kissed the side of her head three times, and he roughly rubbed her shoulders in lieu of speaking. There were no words anyway. He knew she would understand. 

He definitely hadn’t expected his eyes to sting with tears  _again_ , but he was so fucking overwhelmed. With anger, with relief, with happiness, with regret, with confusion, with sorrow… He sniffed hard, trying to keep his emotions in check, but another look at Zoey’s skinny, bandaged body, and he found himself practically screaming in his brain.  _Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry..._

He’d spent the last three days thinking she was going to die any second. Any fucking second. And there had been nothing he could do. Fucking nothing. But now she was here. She was awake. At least for the moment.

He sniffed quietly and buried his face in her shoulder like he had so many times before, steeling his jaw. “I’m so fucking glad you’re alive,” he muttered. He sounded heartbroken even to his own ears. 

Zoey slurred something, and Nate sat back and asked her to repeat it.

Several seconds passed, as though it took her brain a long time to hear what he'd said, think about it, and form her thoughts. She had a blank expression on her face when she finally repeated her message, and Nate still couldn’t understand her. He just gently tightened his hand over hers, hoping that would suffice instead of a response. He was glad she couldn't tell how freaked out he was by her altered state. She groaned something else a moment later, and all Nate caught was, “’m so tired.”

“Go back to sleep,” he told her.

She looked up at him then; it was the first eye contact they’d had in nearly five days.

Nate felt a pang in his chest. God, she looked so fucking awful. Confused, pale, upset, sick… “Go to sleep,” he repeated. “It’s okay.” 

After a moment, her eyes grew worried.

“What?” he asked.

A beat passed while Nate waited for his sister’s hazy mind to process his words. She mumbled, “I don’t want you to go.”

Nate barely understood it, but he got just enough. “Not going anywhere.” And then, knowing what was coming next, he tacked on, “I promise.”

 

* * *

 

 

Jay sat on Zoey’s carpet with a beer he’d grabbed from the downstairs fridge. Even after all his work, the huge bloodstain remained. Fuck. He’d have to call a cleaner.

There was a soft pattering of feet - Jay turned to see Abigail making her way slowly to him. She went up to him, sniffing carefully, making sure that he wasn’t going to hurt her. 

“Hey, girl,” he said. He held out a hand and motioned her forward.

She obliged. She laid down next to him and licked her nose a few times. Then she stretched forward and licked at the carpet. At Zoey’s blood.

“No, no, fuck. Don’t do that,” Jay said quickly, gently pulling her back. “Don’t fucking do that. There’s fucking… chemicals and shit in there now, too. Don’t do that.” 

Abigail looked at him sadly with her big eye, and Jay rubbed a hand over her head. 

“She’ll be fine,” Jay murmured. “She’ll be…” But what if she wasn’t? What the fuck had he been thinking, leaving like that? 

He jumped to his feet and jogged down the stairs. He poured a generous helping of food into Abigail’s bowl and left her a ton of water. Then he locked the door and headed quickly to the truck, his keys jingling loudly. The vehicle sputtered to life. Jay was off.

 

* * *

 

 

“How do you feel?” Nate asked when Zoey had woken up an hour or so later 

She slowly shrugged. 

“Nauseous?” he asked knowingly. He could feel it. 

“Yeah. Mostly just tired. Oh, and I can’t move two of my fingers.” 

“Which two?” 

She lifted her left hand a few inches and scrunched her fingers like she was going to make a fist. Only three of them bent; her pinkie and her ring finger stayed perfectly still. 

“Do they hurt?” Nate inquired. 

Her lips tilted down at one corner. “A little,” she admitted. 

He reached out to touch them, lightly rubbing his fingers in circles over the bones. Her hands were so fucking cold. “And your…” He trailed off, pointing at the puffy bandages wrapped around her wrists.

“Hurts like fucking hell,” she muttered, “but I can’t fucking complain. I did it to myself.”

“Hey,” Nate interjected. 

She cast her eyes up to him. 

“Don’t fucking talk like that.” 

“It’s true,” she sighed.

He grimaced, and she fell silent.

“You… you weren’t yourself,” he murmured. 

“Yes, I was,” she replied softly. 

Alvey watched as his children interacted, feeling like an outsider but also glad to see them like this. They may as well have been five and nine again. That was the most information Zoey had offered the entire time she’d been awake. The doctors had asked her how she felt, and she just kept telling them over and over that she was fine. He had no idea about her hand. Or that she felt so guilty.

Just then, a breathless Jay flew through the door. “Hey,” he exhaled. He was winded, as though he’d been running. 

At the sight of Zoey awake and alert, he froze. 

She looked unsure of how to feel or what to say. She swallowed nervously.

“Hey,” Jay whispered. He moved to her side and sat down on the edge of the bed like he would at home. His eyes were pink and filled with tears, but he still tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear for her. “You… are you…?” he began, not knowing what to say.

“Jay,” she hummed softly, leaning into his chest. She closed her eyes and wrapped an arm around him the best she could with all the wires and tubes. 

“Fuck, Little Zee,” he said tearfully, trying to laugh as he embraced her. “You scared the shit out of me.” 

Nate could feel it before Jay noticed it; Zoey was crying, too. It was a quiet thing, not big and sobbing. Just weak, ashamed, exhausted tears. Nate made a motion at his older brother to alert him to the situation, and Jay leaned back to try to catch a glimpse of Zoey’s face. 

“Hey, hey,” Jay said slowly, kissing her wet cheek and pulling her back in tighter. “We love you.”

“Jay, I'm so sorry,” she whispered between two little gasps.

"Shh... I know. I know." Jay rubbed her back, and even when she quieted, he didn’t stop or let go.

 

* * *

 

  

Rumors were spreading on a fighters-only message board. Navy Street had been closed for three days straight with no explanation, and people were talking. The man read with an interested expression.

Click… click… click…

He stood up from his computer and walked outside to his car.

 

* * *

  

“Alright, Miss Zoey,” a different nurse chirped several minutes later. “Are you ready to go get cleaned up?”

“Oh, um,” Zoey muttered. She rubbed a little at the base of her throat and tried to clear it. “Okay.”

Nate and Alvey had stepped out, and Ryan and Jay were with her. They stood up to let her change, both of them embracing her carefully before they went out to the waiting room.

“We’ll be here when you’re done,” Jay promised. 

Zoey nodded. 

“Alright, honey,” the nurse said as she helped Zoey to her feet. “I’m Ann. We’re gonna go down the hall to a shower. I have shampoo and soap for you, and you’ll be able to brush your teeth, too.”

That sounded great to Zoey. It had been about four days since she’d showered. But once they got in the bathroom, things grew uncomfortable. It became clear that Ann wasn’t going anywhere.

“I have to watch you,” Ann explained reluctantly.

Zoey raised her eyebrows.

“You’re a moderate suicide risk. I have to make sure you don’t hurt yourself.”

“I won’t,” Zoey promised sincerely. 

Ann gave her a sad smile. “I wish it worked that way, honey. It’s state policy. But don’t worry; I have to do this all the time. It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”

Zoey swallowed and started to undress. Ann helped her untie the hospital gown, and they slipped it off together. Zoey could feel herself choking up in mortification, but she knew she didn’t have a choice. 

She kept her eyes away from the woman as she stepped under the water, which was, thankfully, a little warmer than she’d expected. Her arms felt like lead as they worked shampoo into her hair. Washing her body was easier. She took her time with her arms, examining the dark brown bruises on the backs of her hands and in the crooks of her elbows from all the needles and IVs. When she pressed on them experimentally, Ann lightly cleared her throat. "Sorry," Zoey muttered. She didn’t bother asking whether she could shave.

The nurse had a thin, white towel waiting for her when she got out. It reminded Zoey of the towels at Reunited. She ached momentarily for Ellen and the dry Arizona sun. But then Ann was giving her a pair of light blue pants and a white v neck and helping her tug them on. She was then allowed to brush her teeth with chalky white toothpaste and a [green toothbrush](https://s29.postimg.org/6y0j6we3b/Lighthouse_WORKS_Security_Toothbrush.jpg) that was no more than three inches long. 

It was painfully obvious that things in her life were about to be very, very different.

 

* * *

  

Zoey was relocated to a room on the general recovery floor, which meant that all of her visitors could hang out in her room at the same time. She was tired, but she let them all stay because she knew from their reactions that they must have been worried about her. That, and she felt guilty as fuck.

The men mostly just talked with each other, stuff about fighters and some new kind of protein powder that Ryan wanted to try, and Zoey found out that the gym had been closed the entire time she was unconscious. That just made her feel ten times worse. People depended on that gym - not just for working out, but for actual training - and now her dad and his staff were losing money because of her.

Alvey got up after a little bit and said he was ready to go home and rest. He said a verbal goodbye to Zoey just like Dr. Kramer had asked, and he squeezed Nate's shoulder before exiting. Ryan excused himself shortly after to get sodas from the hospital's food court, and then it was just the three siblings together.

The conversation shifted to Jay talking about cute nurses to try to make his siblings laugh. It didn’t really work, but he kept going, desperate to make one of them at least smile. But while he was talking, Zoey’s heart monitor started to speed up. Nate whipped around in his chair, and Jay looked from his brother to his sister. Nate looked murderous. Zoey looked terrified. 

Nate turned back around. “Was that him?” he demanded, his voice almost a growl. 

"You saw the guy?" Jay asked dangerously.

“ _Zebra._  Was that him?” 

One nod from Zoey, and Jay was up out of his chair, slamming through the door, and almost running down the hallway. He had his sights set on the man in front of him, and he followed intently, catching up as quietly as he could. The man exited through a door and into the parking garage, and that was when Jay sprung. He grabbed Walker from behind, locking a tattooed arm around his throat.

“It was you?” Jay demanded. “All this fucking time, and it was  _you_?” He spat in the man’s face as best he could from the side and kicked his feet out from under him to get him onto the ground. “You fucking pussy,” he accused. “You  _raped_  my little sister!” 

“I didn’t,” Walker lied, scrambling backwards away from Jay and his crazy eyes. 

“Oh, you didn’t? You  _didn’t_? Yeah fucking right.” He motioned down at Clint. “Where’s that tough guy, huh? Where’s the guy that broke into my fucking house and raped my sister? Huh? Huh? Where the fuck is he? You’re not gonna make me fight some weak little bitch, are you?”

Walker slowly got to his feet and put his hands up.

Jay grinned. “There it is. There it is. Alright." He chuckled at Walker's tense stance. "Man, you better relax. I’m not gonna fucking kill you.” 

A flash of relief passed over Clint’s face.

“But you’re gonna wish I did.”

Jay lunged at Walker, smashing a punch into his jaw. The shorter man was trying to defend himself, but Jay was running on pure adrenaline and anger. Walker was no match for him. 

“You have no fucking idea what you did to my family,” Jay growled, landing hit after hit on Walker’s upper body. “No fucking idea, you motherfucking cunt.” 

The door to the parking garage slammed open again, and then Nate was there, walking calmly toward Walker and Jay, not at all fazed by the fighting.

Jay noticed him and slowed his attack. “I got this,” he panted, but Nate didn't seem to hear. His eyes were trained hard on Walker, and he shrugged his jacket off and dropped it on the concrete as he went.

Jay let up then, ready to let Nate have at his former opponent.

"Look, man," Clint started, a hand out in front of him as if to keep Nate away. He took two steps back but crashed into Jay, who grabbed his arms behind his back as a restraint. Nate took full advantage and yanked Walker down by the shoulders, drawing his knee first into the man’s stomach and then into his groin. He beat a fist hard into the side of Walker’s head.

The only way the man was still standing was because Jay was still holding him up. 

“Keep going, Nate, keep fucking going,” Jay encouraged, but Nate barely heard him. He had no mind to stop. Every emotion that he’d felt over the last few days, everything that had happened to his sister, every drop of blood on the tile in her bathroom, every goddamn word she wrote her the suicide notes – it was all because of Clint Walker. Fucking Clint Walker. Unbelievable. But there was some sort of grace to the whole situation; Nate could finally pin this on someone other than himself. He gritted his teeth and hit harder. 

“HEY!” came a shout.

All the action froze, and all three heads turned to the source of the noise.

Ryan was standing in the doorway looking bewildered. “What the fuck are you guys doing? There are cameras here! Somebody’s gonna call the cops!” 

“I don’t give a fuck,” Nate hissed. 

“Is that Clint Walker?” Ryan asked incredulously. “Are you two beating up Clint Walker in a fucking _parking garage_?!” 

“This is the guy that attacked Zee,” Jay explained in a dangerous tone. 

Ryan was still for a long moment. Then he gave a single nod. He walked forward, looking carefully at the man between the Kulina brothers. He got right up in his face and evenly murmured, “If you  _ever_  come after her or anyone else again, I will let them fucking kill you. And I’ll fucking help. Do you understand, you piece of shit?”

“Y-yeah, man," Clint whimpered. "Yeah. Yeah.” 

Ryan spat in his face. “Fucking rapist cunt,” he muttered. Then he turned to Nate and Jay. “Come on, you guys. Let’s get the fuck out of here.” He leaned down and scooped Nate’s jacket off the ground and wrapped an arm around each of the guys. Nate shoved Ryan away and stalked forward in front of him, but Jay needed the comfort.

“You press charges and we’ll press ‘em right back,” Jay called over his shoulder as Ryan led him away. “She’s still got all her clothes from that night, so you decide.”

“Is that true?” Ryan asked once the door had shut behind them.

“Hell if I know,” Jay admitted, but he was too engulfed in his adrenaline high to care. “Nate, you okay, man?”

“Going for a run,” he spat. Ryan tried not to notice his hands trembling. 

“Now?” Jay asked, but Nate was already heading down the hallway to the exit. “Alright then,” Jay said to himself. 

"Are you alright?" Ryan asked.

"We're fine," Jay said, still watching after Nate. "She's awake, he'll be... he'll sort it out."

“No, are  _you_  alright?” Ryan asked. 

Jay stopped walking then. He nodded. Paused. Then nodded again. “Yeah. It’s just a lot. It’s…” He laughed emotionlessly. “It’s a lot.”

Ryan embraced him tightly.

“Hey, I love you, man,” Jay said, grabbing onto his best friend. “I’m really glad you’re here. And thanks for, uh,” he muttered, swiping a hand across his nose, “thanks for coming out there. I don’t think I was gonna stop Nate, so… and you know I can’t let my kid go down for murder, so you probably just saved me from a whole lot of prison time.”

“Anytime,” Ryan replied. He didn't smile; he could sense the seriousness of the situation. Every word Jay had just spoken had been complete truth. He tugged Jay back into an embrace. “You need a more rational brain, motherfucker,” he said, smacking Jay across the back of his head. “You know that?”

“Yeah, I know that. I’ve always fucking known that.”

“Well, I got smoothies,” Ryan offered, jamming his thumb back in the direction of Zoey’s room. “I thought they sounded better than Dr. Pepper, and they had pomegranate, so…”

“Oh, fuck yeah,” Jay nodded, following Ryan back into the wing Zoey had been placed in.

When they entered her room, she didn't speak. She looked at Jay's bright red knuckles and then up at his face. 

"He's not gonna fuck with you anymore," Jay said evenly. "And Nate's fine. He went for a walk."

Zoey nodded, sipping her smoothie carefully through an orange straw. 

"Ay, did somebody tell you you could have that?" Jay asked sharply.

"Tanisha," Zoey said, swallowing a mouthful of the sweet drink. 

"Oh, we love Tanisha," Ryan said as Jay replied, "Good."

"Do you like it?" Ryan asked. "I couldn't remember what flavor you liked. It's been a long time."

"No, it's really good," she answered softly, trying not to agitate her voice further. "Thank you. It's making my throat feel better."

"Anything for my girl," Ryan smiled. 

Zoey finally let the corners of her lips turn up. No one was surprised when Jay reached forward to grab her in a hug.  


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry i forgot to update!! with all the christmas happenings, zoey and the story TOTALLY slipped my mind all week. i actually wrote a huge majority of the chapter _today! _i hope you all had a very merry christmas, and thank you for your patience <3__  
> nate lovers, this one's for you!

Bright and early the next morning, Zoey was loaded into a hospital transport van with another teenager, this one a boy. They didn’t speak to each other or even sit next to one another. The boy sat in the center of the middle row, but Zoey took a window seat in the back, furthest away from the steering wheel. (She had always heard that drivers instinctively protect their side of the car first.) She only put on her seatbelt when she was asked to.

The drive up to the Westwood district was much longer than Zoey had expected. It took nearly twenty-five minutes to get from Larkin to UCLA. She should have remembered that; she’d actually been to the UCLA Medical Center once before. Nate and Jay had gone in for tests there once, but she didn’t know for what. Something for fighting, she figured. She wondered if _they_ had known what tests were being conducted on them. She remembered sitting in a waiting room somewhere with Alvey, watching A Bug’s Life on the grainy TV. But it would be different this time. She wouldn't be in and out in an hour like she was that day; she'd be staying there for god knows how long.

As the male nurses got out of the front seat and came around to the back, Zoey fidgeted with the part of her bandage that was sticking out. (Her wrists had been taken out of the puffy gauze wrapping and instead were covered in a sort of bandage tape. She’d seen this before when her brothers got big cuts on their arms and legs in the cage and had to have stitches.) The nurses walked closely along either side of the teenagers as they walked into a back door of the building. She supposed because they were expecting her to run away or bang her head into the wall. But she wasn’t going to give them that satisfaction. She was going to get out of this hospital as quickly as possible.

Once she was inside, things weren’t at all as she’d thought they would be. There were several locked doors that required badge scans and long passwords to open. But at the same time, the walls weren’t all stark white. Or padded. There were people sitting around a table playing a card game wearing hospital bracelets, but they were actually laughing like normal people. A nurse walked by and gave her a kind smile. Weird.

Zoey’s eyes flicked all over the room, taking in the signs with the rules and the visiting schedule and the nurses for each hall. She wondered which hall she’d be on. She hoped she’d have the nurse that smiled at her.

After a few minutes, she was called into a room where a different nurse took her vitals, recorded her weight, and asked her to recount what had happened that led her to the hospital. She told the truth; she was sure the gruff man that had placed her here would have sent her information over anyway. The nurse typed rapidly as Zoey spoke, briefly recounting her drinking and then her suicide attempt. She was forced to answer another series of questions similar to the ones she’d been asked in the hospital, but this one was even longer and included things she’d never really thought about, like whether or not she had crying spells or what her sexual orientation was. 

“Straight,” she answered, but the question stayed in her mind for the next few moments. She’d never really had much of a crush on anyone, even when she was younger. And she did like sex with boys, especially Carson, but there was something about female bodies that she’d always found sexy. Was that admiration or attraction? She pushed the question out of her thoughts and focused on where she was and what the hell was going to happen to her.

Shortly after she finished with the nurse, she was sent to a doctor who asked her even _more_ questions and wrote a lot of things down on a piece of paper. He was, somehow, even less sympathetic than the other people she’d interacted with. She tried not to feel awful or afraid.

She was assigned a room, which she went to with the stack of things they handed her; a towel, a doll-sized container of roll-on deodorant, a folded pair of scrub pants, a clean white v-neck, a pair of cotton underwear, new hospital-issue socks, another teeny tiny three-inch toothbrush, and a mini tube of the same chalky toothpaste. In addition to that, they gave her a bottle of shampoo that was even smaller than the size you were allowed to bring on airplanes. Did they think she was a doll? 

One of the beds was unmade, so Zoey took the neat one, assuming that another girl must have inhabited the one on the left. She was glad to have the bed furthest from the door. She had no idea what went on in a place like the one she was in.

She was staring at the shampoo bottle again when her roommate – or who she assumed must have been her roommate – walked in. The girl noticed what Zoey had in her hand and shortly explained, “It’s so you don’t swallow it. This guy last week drank the whole thing trying to kill himself, but obviously it didn’t work.”

Zoey looked up at her. 

“I’m Emily,” she stated. She had short blonde hair and was a little heavier than Zoey.

“Zee,” Zoey answered.

“Nice to meet you,” Emily said, but she didn’t sound much like she cared. “Group starts in three minutes.”

“Oh,” Zoey replied, for the sake of something to say.

“I just wanted to tell you cause I heard I got a new roommate, and when I first got here, I had no idea what I was supposed to be doing. Group is optional, but there’s not really anything else to do here, so,” she shrugged. 

Zoey nodded as if she understood.

“This is my second day,” she said proudly. “I’m supposed to get out soon.”

“Already?” Zoey asked hopefully.

Emily nodded. “They have to keep us three days, but they try to get everyone out as soon as possible.” 

Zoey raised her eyebrows and fought a smile.

“I mean, there’s some people on B Hall that have been here forever, but they’re crazy. They _have_ to stay.” 

“B Hall?” Zoey echoed. 

Emily pointed to the hallway outside their room. “We’re on A Hall. The one down the other way by the cafeteria is C Hall. B Hall is behind the locked door. They keep the lunatics in there.” 

Zoey nodded as if she understood. She wondered what kind of ‘lunatics’ were in B Hall, but before she had time to ask, Emily was motioning her down the hall. “Come on. We’ve gotta go to group.” 

“I don’t want to,” Zoey admitted.

“Suck it up,” Emily said airily, already heading out the door. “If you don’t go to group, they’ll never let you out.” 

Zoey hopped to her feet and hurried after her roommate. This was going to be interesting.

 

* * *

 

 

“What the hell do you mean, she’s gone?” Jay angrily demanded to the secretary at the front desk. He slammed his fist onto the counter. “She was just here! They weren’t supposed to let her out until the afternoon!” 

Nate pushed his older brother out of the way and calmly asked, “Where did they take her?” 

The woman did some clicking on her computer and then said, “She’s been moved to the UCLA Medical Center. You’ll have to call over there and find out when you can visit. They have much stricter hours than we do.”

Nate nodded. “Thanks.”

Jay, on the other hand, was exasperated. As soon as they were out the door, he threw his hands up in the air. “What the fuck, man? We didn’t even get to say bye to her.”

“The sooner she goes in, the sooner she gets out,” Nate pointed out.

“They said it’ll be three days at least,” Jay argued. 

“She needs to be in longer than that. They can’t fix her in three days.”

“They’re not trying to fix her, Nate. They’re trying to help her.” 

Nate sighed. “I’ll call Sam and see what he thinks.” 

“Yeah.”

They boys got back in the truck and headed for the little house. When Jay dropped Nate off at home, Christina said, “That was fast.” 

“They fucking moved her to UCLA without telling us,” Jay reported, his frustration written all over his face. He shook his head and shifted the truck back into gear. “Nate, call me later, okay? I love you.” 

“You, too.”

“Love you, Mom.”

“I love you, too, honey. You come home whenever you want, okay?”

“Yeah.” He backed down the driveway, headed for the motel and Ava. He wanted to fuck her and get high. _Needed_ to fuck her and get high. 

In the little house, Nate was moving around the kitchen, making himself a peanut butter and banana smoothie when Christina came up behind him. “Baby,” she said softly.

He turned. 

“Tell me what happened on Friday.”

Nate shrugged and focused hard on his smoothie.

“Your dad called me, but… I feel like I need to hear it from you.”

“Why?” he asked, letting the knife he was using clatter loudly onto the counter. “It’s not like you give a fuck about her. You never have.”

She exhaled quietly, nodding at his words. “I know… why you would think that,” she said slowly, “but I do love my daughter. Very much.”

Nate snorted. “Since when,” he asked flatly.

“I was afraid to let myself love her… But I don’t want to get into that with you,” she said, knowing how much it would tear her sensitive boy up to know the heavy secret. “But please believe me. It’s the truth. I’ve always loved her. I just let myself realize it for the first time last week.”

“Last week,” Nate echoed with an emotionless laugh. “Nice, ‘Mom.’” 

She sighed. “Nate…”

“No, you know what? You did nothing to help her. Nothing. And now you want to know what happened to her?”

“Yes, Nate. I do.” 

Nate huffed. “My fucking god,” he muttered. “You don’t care. You’re just curious. I’m not telling you shit.” He made his smoothie in silence and escaped to his room, locking the door. 

He had a handful of texts from Joe Daddy, Shelby, and Juan, all telling him that he needed to get online immediately. He started scrolling through the message boards and was horrified by what he found.

He set the smoothie down, logged into his account, and angrily started typing.

 

* * *

 

“Everyone, we have two new patients with us today,” the woman leading group said. “This is Braden and Zoey.” 

No one spoke. 

There were six teenagers sitting still in a circle of folding chairs, all clad in the same uniform as Zoey. Some looked normal, and others looked like zombies. Zoey wondered who they were and what the hell they were all doing there, but she figured that she'd find out soon enough.

“I’m Gloria; I’ll be the nurse on A Hall until 7 tonight, when Brett will take over. Ethan has B Hall, and C Hall will be with Duncan.”

Some of the patients nodded in acknowledgement of the information. Most of them just stared blankly at her. 

“Alright!” she chirped, unbothered. “Well! Today, we’re going to talk about coping skills.” 

There was a quiet groan from a few of the other teenagers in the room. Zoey figured out quickly that she’d been placed in a sort of in-between unit; people that were over 16 but under 21. Not quite adolescents, but not quite adults either. 

“Hey, coping skills are at the root of recovery,” Gloria smiled. “Who here can name some bad coping skills that got you here?”

“Drugs,” a white guy and an Indian girl sitting lazily next to each other answered simultaneously.

“Good,” Gloria noted, writing ‘Drugs’ on the white board on the wall. “Who else?”

There was a long silence. 

“Everyone is here because they were using drugs?” Gloria asked knowingly. When there was more silence, she pressed them again. “Just Mira and Alexander, then? No one else has anything to add?” 

A girl who looked really young said, "Purging."

“Restricting,” Emily volunteered from Zoey’s left side.

“Uh-huh,” Gloria said as she scrawled those two on the board as well. Zoey didn’t know what 'restricting' meant, but apparently it was a correct answer. 

Emily nudged Zoey. She whispered, “You get brownie points for participating.” 

Zoey nodded and raised her hand.

“Yes, Zoey!”

“Um. Cutting?” 

“Great example.” ‘Cutting’ appeared on the board right under Emily’s ‘Restricting.’

“Alcohol,” Braden offered.

“Alcohol,” Gloria repeated as she wrote. “Alcohol is an interesting one, because it’s a depressant, but people use it to feel better. Thank you, Braden. Rose, is there anything you would like to add?” Gloria asked.

The black girl who Zoey assumed was Rose sat silently, watching something move around on the ceiling. Zoey looked up, but she didn’t see anything. After a pause, Gloria continued as though nothing was strange. Zoey kept staring at Rose.

“She’s schizophrenic,” Emily explained in a quiet whisper. 

Zoey knew a little about that. Those were the homeless people who sat on bridges and yelled loudly as though they were in an argument, but they weren't actually talking to anyone. Jay always gave them more money than the other panhandlers he donated to, and they weren't even panhandling.

The conversation shifted to positive coping skills. Zoey threw out journaling as an option once a few people had shared, and then she sat quietly and listened the rest of the time. Speaking twice in her first session was plenty, and the nurse told her that she did a good job at the end of group anyway. That made her feel a little bit warmer inside. She was doing things right.

Then there was lunch. “We get the leftovers from the main cafeteria,” Emily told her as she grabbed a tray and pushed down the line. “It’s usually okay, but sometimes it’s bad. And _don’t_ eat the sausage at breakfast. I swear to god it’s not sausage.”

She seemed so sincerely horrified that Zoey almost smiled.

 

* * *

 

Jay and Ava fucked and fucked and fucked. He came three times and she twice, but it wasn’t enough to get the sadness out of his bloodstream. He snorted three lines of coke. Still not enough. Swallowed a blue pill and a pink one. Not enough.

Desperately, he turned to the heroin. 

Spill. 

Tap.

(Careful, now.)

Flick. 

Cook. 

Wait. 

Bubble.

Boil.

Wrap. 

Bite. 

(Tighter. Tighter. Tighter.)

(It hurts.) 

Find. 

Prick. 

No. 

Prick.

Yes. 

Slide.

Shoot.

Breathe.

Breathe. 

Breathe.

Sit back. 

And finally, finally, his mind was calm. He floated high above his body while Ava slept quietly next to him. 

A tear ran slowly down his cheek. 

But his brain was quiet.

Not still. Just quiet.

 

* * *

 

That night, Nate sat quietly against the doorway of Zoey’s bathroom. The floor had been scrubbed clean, but there were still traces of crimson crust between each tile. And the carpet… the carpet looked fucking atrocious. But he sat there anyway; now that she was gone, this was the closest he could be to her. It just felt right.

He had been sitting still for several minutes, the envelope with his name on it in his hand. He was staring at her messy scribble, knowing that it could have been the last time she wrote his name down. Maybe it still could be. He swallowed thickly and was just starting to get up the courage to slide his thumb under the corner of the seal when her bedroom door was pushed open. 

Nate looked up quickly and was surprised to see his father standing there, looking as though he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. 

“Oh, um, hey, Nate,” Alvey stuttered. “Hey. Hey.” He awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. "Sorry. I didn't know you were in here. I was just..."

Nate didn’t speak.

Alvey let his eyes travel to the blood on the carpet and then to the white envelope in Nate’s hands. “Is that a fucking suicide note?” he asked. 

One nod. 

“You read it yet?” 

He shook his head and cast his eyes back to the rushed scrawl. 

Alvey headed to Zoey’s bed and sifted through the stack until he found his. “‘Daddy’,” he said out loud, huffing a sad laugh. His voice had a strange edge to it, one that made Nate afraid to look up. He didn’t want to see his dad looking like anything less than his normal self. The pair had an unspoken rule – no weakness allowed. Or at least that’s what Nate thought. 

Alvey took a seat across from Nate, leaning against the opposite doorframe. He tore the envelope open, and Nate did look up then. He watched as Alvey pulled out the paper and scanned it, his face barely changing as he read silently to himself. He did give another sad laugh at one point, but he just rubbed a hand over his chin and continued reading. It didn’t take long; it seemed Zoey didn’t have much to say to him. Nate had felt several days before that his letter was the thickest of the five. 

When Alvey was through, he stuffed the note back in and tossed the envelope several feet away. Nate swallowed again.

“Nate,” Alvey started, but he stopped. 

Nate didn’t look up from his letter. He knew there was nothing to be said.

“I’ve… I’ve been thinking. I think we should go to counseling. All of us.”

Nate cracked one of his knuckles absently.

“Not together or anything,” Alvey said quickly. “I just think… we all have a bunch of shit to sort through. And between Jay and your sister, this has to be rock bottom. I don’t-” He laughed. “I don’t know how much fucking lower we can get.” 

Nate didn’t speak, so Alvey continued for the sake of filling the quiet in the room. There was a heaviness there, and Alvey didn’t want to give in to it. He didn’t want Nate to be suffering there in silence. God knew he could feel the weight in that room ten times more than Alvey could. 

“I got some referrals from Dr. Kramer so you and your brother can talk to people that don’t have any… preconceptions of you. Or your sister.”

Nate stared harder at the envelope. He willed his father to get up and leave.

“I know this has been fucking awful for you,” Alvey admitted softly. “It's been hard for me to watch you like this. I can’t even im… I know how close are with her. I know that. And I want _you_ to know something.” He paused. “Nate, look at me. Hey. Look at me. Please.” 

Nate slowly raised his eyes to meet his father’s.

“This was not your fault. Okay? What your sister did is not your fucking fault, Nate. I swear to fucking god. It’s not your fault.”

Nate nodded. He bit down hard on the inside of his cheek.

“I also want you to know that I’m here. If you want to talk or something. I’m around.”

Nate nodded again, desperate to get his father out of Zoey’s space so he could think on his own again. He could feel Alvey staring at him, so he fought hard to keep his expression neutral. 

But then Alvey was scooting forward on the carpet, right over the bloodstain. “Come here,” he ordered, holding an arm out. 

Nate looked into his eyes, trying to see what exactly it was his father wanted. What did Nate need to give in order to get his father to leave? But there didn’t seem to be any of Alvey’s usual selfishness on his face. He looked… concerned. That was odd. 

“I know you’re the tough guy, but come here, come here, come here. Give your old man a hug.” 

Nate stayed still, trying to understand what was happening.

Alvey looked almost disappointed. “Nate. We almost fucking lost your sister.” 

“Zoey,” Nate corrected firmly.

“Yeah.” 

“No, her name is _Zoey._ And she’s not just my sister – she’s your daughter. She’s your _daughter_ , Dad.” 

Alvey could see the anger in Nate’s eyes. He let his arm drop. “I know.” 

“Then why don’t you fucking act like it? All she wants is for you to care about her, just a little bit. Just a little fucking bit.” 

“We’re working on it,” Alvey placated.

“Well, she fucking gave up!” Nate exploded. “She didn’t want to fucking ‘work on it’ any more. She tried to fucking check out. She fucking… she fucking…” He motioned wildly to the blood on the ground. 

Alvey did embrace him then, sensing his desperation. He held on tightly to his son, so tightly that it made Nate’s back hurt. The boy didn’t hug back, but he did lean into his father for the first time in probably thirteen years. He took deep breath after deep breath, telling himself over and over not to break. He had to hold it together. No weakness. No fucking weakness.

“I got you,” Alvey said softly, echoing words he used to hear Jay say to the kids when they were younger. 

Nate couldn’t help it – he let himself drop his head onto his father’s shoulder. It felt so good having the pain come from something good. Not getting beat up in a cage. Not smashing his fist into his chest until it bruised. Not lifting weights until he couldn’t anymore or running until he thought he might collapse. 

Alvey murmured, “It’s okay, baby. It’s okay.”

Nate’s protest came in a whisper. “It’s not fucking okay.”

“It will be,” Alvey insisted confidently. “Swear to fucking god.”

Nate tried to hear the words as though they were coming from ‘coach Alvey’ and not ‘dad Alvey.’ It did make him feel a little better that way. He let his fingers find their way to Alvey’s soft Navy Street t-shirt and clench the fabric of his sleeve. 

“I got you,” Alvey repeated, feeling the tug of Nate’s hands.

Nate allowed himself one shaky sob into his father’s shoulder before he realized what a fucking pussy he was being. He pushed back from his father, got quickly to his feet, and stormed out of the room. 

“Nate,” Alvey called, but the boy was already rushing across the hallway and slamming his bedroom door shut. Alvey could hear the sound of the lock slotting into place. He sighed to himself; he’d been so fucking close to a breakthrough with Nate. But maybe that had been a breakthrough in itself.

Alvey tried not to think about the way Nate had discarded Zoey’s suicide note right in the center of the bloodstain.

 

* * *

 

Dinner was quiet. Emily picked at her food like a bird, but Zoey ate ravenously. Her body had only been fed nutrients through tubes for the last few days, and it craved real food. She went for seconds on the chicken breast even though she knew that on a normal day, she would have only taken a few bites and then stopped. She was so hungry that the dry, overdone, old meat tasted delicious. 

Zoey went to two more groups, the afternoon one and the closing group before bedtime. She didn’t participate much in either, and she was trying to hide her yawns all through the last session, but she attended both, and that seemed to be the most important thing.

She had expected there to be a sort of lights-out like there had been at Reunited, but when Zoey asked one of the staff members about it, they told her that everyone could go to bed whenever they liked. Zoey, of course, fell asleep around 10:30. Emily was out in the community room until much later. Zoey heard her come in through their room's door, and she woke fully up. “What time is it?” she asked. 

“Two something,” Emily replied tiredly. The girl flopped onto her bed and didn’t bother getting under the covers. She just laid there and went straight to sleep.

Zoey’s body had grown used to the soft hospital beds, so sleeping in the stiff cot wasn’t so bad. It was a step closer to the ground than the ones in the hospital with their layers of blankets. Here, the sheets were scratchy and the blankets were thin and useless. The pillows were even worse; they were barely two inches thick and unbearably uncomfortable. Zoey had three stacked up under her head, and she still wasn’t comfortable. She tossed and turned, drifting in and out of sleep for the rest of the night.

 

* * *

 

Jay’s phone started vibrating loudly. He jumped awake, and Ava did the same on his chest.

“What's that?” she moaned in a confused voice. 

“Shh, it’s just my phone. Just my fucking phone,” he muttered. “Go back to sleep, babe.” 

“Mmkay.” 

Jay saw Ryan’s name on the screen and he rolled his eyes but slid his finger across to answer anyway. “What?” he asked, smacking his lips tiredly.

“Hey, man. You need to get on the Sherdog board. Fucking right now. Nate posted a huge rant.” 

Jay blinked. “He what?” 

“Yes. Get on there and read it, and then you need to call him.”

The line went dead, and Jay tiredly opened Safari on his phone and went to the forum. Of course, the top story in California was Nate’s giant paragraph. Jay clicked on it.

 

> **Nkulina93**  
>  **August 18, 2015**
> 
> **EXPLANATION FOR THE CLOSURE OF NAVY STREET**
> 
> All of you assholes are here making fun of me and my dad and my brother and calling us names and saying we're closing down but it’s not true. Do you want to know what happened? Do you really want to know? I’ll tell you what really happened that made us close the gym down. Are you ready?
> 
> On Friday night Zoey (me and Jay’s little sister) tried to kill herself. So of course the fucking gym’s closed! We were in the ICU for 3 days with her and I think that was a little more important than your workout. Part of what we teach at Navy Street is how to get in a good workout when your not at the gym anyway so maybe you pussies should get your act together and do the work without having to show off your muscles to the other guys. Do it for yourself, not for the fucking attention.
> 
> You guys are the rudest, most insensitive bastards I’ve ever encountered. Yeah some of you are just here trolling and you think it’s funny watching us after fucking Mario Gold-whatever wrote that article about my dad. Maybe you’d never heard of us before that. Maybe you’ve been following my family for years, or maybe you train in the gym with us. But you whoever you are, I'd bet money that you don’t know what it’s like to be the one to find your dying sister bleeding out on the floor. You don’t know what it feels like waiting hours and hours and hours in a hallway when their not even going to let you see her. You don't know what it's like hearing that your best friend won't make it through the night. You don’t. fucking. know. So shut your idiot mouths and leave my family alone.
> 
> We’ll open the gym again when we’re ready. But for now, you need to leave Navy Street and my family the fuck alone.

 

The post had been upvoted over two hundred times, and it had only been online for a handful of hours. Jay scrolled down to see what kind of comments had been written. Some of the entries were the god-awful trolls that Nate had mentioned, rudely correcting his grammar and laughing about how they hoped Zoey would die. Still, most of them were kind and apologetic, wishing the family well and taking Nate's angry, emotional post in stride.

Instead of calling Nate like Ryan had suggested, Jay shut the phone and went back to sleep. They could deal with this in the morning.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **AMANDA NUNES!!!!!**
> 
>  
> 
> that is all.

“He did _what?”_ Alvey nearly yelled into the phone.

Ryan had been planning to call his coach right after he'd hung up with Jay, but he decided to wait until the sun came up. The conversation wasn’t going much better the second time. “Yeah,” he replied. “I told Jay to fucking call him, but he didn’t sound like he was going to.” 

Alvey sighed, running his fingers through his long hair. “Alright. Alright… I’ll fucking – I’ll fucking talk to him. Thanks, Ryan.” 

“Welcome, coach.”

The line went dead, and Alvey headed straight to the computer in the kitchen. He didn’t bother to sit in the chair, just opened Sherdog and found Nate’s rant on the front page. He hit print without bothering to try to figure out what Nate's giant paragraphs were about, and then he went upstairs. He knocked hard three times on Nate’s door. _Bang. Bang Bang._

“Go away,” Nate said. 

Alvey just knocked again. _Bang. Bang. Bang._

Nate huffed angrily, and Alvey could hear him crossing the room too quickly, as if he was going to open the door and shout some more. But before Nate could open his mouth, Alvey was holding the piece of paper up to him.

All Nate needed to see was the website’s logo, and he knew what it was. He let his shoulders droop, and he walked slowly back to his bed, collapsing onto it.

“I haven’t read this shit yet,” Alvey told him, “but I know it’s gotta be something big, because guess what?” 

Nate looked at him, his face expressionless.

“You’re the top fucking post on the front fucking page. Three thousand upvotes. Three _thousand_ , Nate.” 

Nate swallowed and put his hands over his face, pressing his fingertips hard into his eyes. “’m sorry,” he mumbled. 

“Well, don’t apologize until I’ve read it, alright?” Alvey said. “Let me read it, and then – then we’ll talk. Yeah?”

Nate nodded, glad that his father was going to give him a version of a fair trial. He watched carefully as Alvey sat on the edge of his bed, something Nate knew Alvey must have done before, but something that Nate sincerely could not remember ever happening. He felt a strange, distant pang of sadness. Mostly he felt numb.

Alvey sighed halfway through it. “Nate,” he said softly, shaking his head. But then there was silence again. When Alvey looked up, his son was staring at him with big puppy eyes, waiting for a reaction. 

“Son,” Alvey muttered. “Why would you… why would you write this? Why would you put this on the fucking internet?” 

“You should have seen what they were saying, Dad,” Nate defended before Alvey could even finish. “You should have seen the shit they wrote about us. You would have-” 

“I wouldn’t have done _this_ ,” Alvey interrupted shortly. Still, he moved closer to Nate and put a hand on his son’s shoulder. “We need help,” Alvey insisted. “Okay? We – you… this isn’t like you. This isn’t like you." But he needed to check; he knew he hadn't exactly paid attention to Nate's coping habits. "Is it?”

Nate slowly shook his head. 

“We need help,” Alvey repeated. The more he said it, the less horrible it felt to admit. Of course they fucking needed help. Their entire family unit had abandoned one another, so what else would there have been to do other than collapse? Alvey pursed his lips and stood. “Leave it up. It'll look weak if you delete it."

Nate swallowed hard and nodded.

"I love you, son,” Alvey said as he held up the paper again, “but don’t _ever_ fucking plaster our shit all over the Internet again.”

“Yes, sir,” Nate mumbled. 

Alvey headed through his son’s bedroom door and back down the stairs, tearing the paper into strips as he went. He crumpled them all together and threw them in the trash.

 

* * *

 

Zoey was sound asleep when the light in her room flipped on. She let out a soft groan and was about to berate Jay for waking her, but when she opened her eyes, it wasn’t her brother she found.

There was a nurse heading toward her with a rolling stand of some kind that had a computer attached to the top. The events of the last few days came rushing back to her, and she sat up on her elbow. “What time is it?” she grumbled sleepily to the nurse. 

“Six ten,” she replied, wheeling to a stop at Zoey’s bedside. “Name and birthday,” she recited, looking down at her chart.

“Zoey Kulina. August first 1997.”

The nurse popped a thermometer into Zoey’s mouth and wrapped a blood pressure cuff around her arm. The woman then clipped something onto her finger. Zoey didn’t remember what that one was supposed to be for. _Nate would know,_ she thought. She sat still and waited.

When the thermometer beeped, the woman took it out and popped the end of it into a trashcan that Zoey hadn’t even noticed. “Your blood pressure’s normal,” the nurse told her as she peeled the Velcro from around Zoey’s arm and unclipped the finger plastic. “You have an appointment with your psych nurse this morning. If there are discharge patients today, they’ll go first, but you’ll be the first one on the list after them.” 

“Okay,” Zoey said. “Thanks.” 

The woman nodded at her and then wheeled the cart over to Emily. After her turn, Emily laid back down.

“Light off?” the nurse asked. 

“Yeah,” Emily replied, and the room went dark.

“We can go back to sleep?” Zoey asked into the darkness.

“Yeah. Breakfast isn’t til seven thirty.”

“Oh,” Zoey murmured, lying back down as well. “Why do they wake us up so early?” 

“They have to get everyone’s vitals before then. For like, the whole psych ward. Not just the teenager one.” When Zoey didn’t reply, Emily said to her, “You know, you’re older than me.” 

“I am?” 

“Yeah. Just by a little.” 

“So… you’re still in high school?” Zoey deduced. 

“Yeah. Starts in like two weeks.” She groaned. “Fucking hate it.” 

“Where do you go?”

“Moreno.”

“Oh. I went to Venice High.”

“Lucky,” she said. “You live right by the beach?”

“Yeah. We walk to the pier.”

Emily sighed. “I’m so jealous.”

“You’re not that far.”

“Not that close, either,” she countered.

They fell quiet, and somehow, both girls drifted back to sleep as the sun started to rise outside.

 

* * *

 

“Hello, and thank you for calling the Ronald Reagan University of California Los Angeles Medical Center,” an automated voice recited over the phone. “Para español, por favor presione la tecla numeral.”

Nate waited.

“If you know the extension of the party you are trying to reach, you may dial it at any time. For the Mattel Children's Hospital, please press 1. For the David Geffin School of Medicine, please press two. For the Resnick Neuropsychiatric Hospital, please press 3. For additional UCLA health services –”

Nate pressed three and then lifted the phone back to his ear. 

“For the geriatric ward, please press 7. For the children’s behavioral unit, please press 8. For the adolescent unit, please press 9. For the-”

Nate pressed the nine button, hoping that he wouldn’t have to listen to any more menus. He was glad when his ear was filled with the sound of ringing. He drummed his fingers lightly against the kitchen table. 

“Resnick Adolescent Unit, this is Carol. How may I help you?”

“Hey, um. I was wondering what your visiting hours are?”

“Oh, sure, honey. Sunday from three to four, Wednesday - that's today now - from four to five, and Friday three to four.”

“Great, thanks. And do I need to make an appointment, or can I just come down there?”

“We need an appointment.”

“Can I come in today?”

“Who are you trying to see?”

“Um, Zoey Kulina. She’s my sister.”

There was a pause. “Oh, I’m sorry, honey – someone’s already called about Zoey. We can only allow one visitor per session. You’ll have to try on Friday.”

Nate tilted his head. “Who is it?” 

“I’m not allowed to answer that,” she replied apologetically. 

“Alright. Well, can you put me on the schedule for Friday now?”

“Sure, honey. Let’s see… what’s your name?” 

“Uh, Nate. And then same last name.” 

“Alright, you’re booked for Friday!” 

“Thank you so much.” 

“No problem. Will that be all?” 

“Yeah. Thanks.” 

“You’re welcome. Have a good day, now!” 

Nate hung up the phone and called Jay. It went straight to voicemail, but he left a message anyway. “Hey, man. Did you make an appointment to see Zebra? I was trying to visit her, but I can’t because somebody’s already taken the slot. I have to wait til Friday. So, uh. Call me back.” 

He hung up and then called his father.

“Hey, what’s up?” Alvey answered.

“Did you make an appointment to go see Zebra?” 

“Uh… no? Was I supposed to?” 

“No,” Nate said quickly. “I was just… I was gonna go out there and see her, but somebody’s already booked the slot.”

“Oh. It wasn’t me.” 

“Alright, thanks. See ya.” 

“Bye.” 

He hung up and texted Ryan the same question, but Ryan sent back a no. If it wasn’t Dad, and it wasn’t Ryan, and Nate assumed it wasn’t Jay because he wasn’t even awake yet, then who the fuck was it? Fucking Clint Walker? He tried to stay calm, but he could feel his jaw tensing up.

  

* * *

 

 

“Alright, today I want to hear from Zoey and Braden about what brought them here to the hospital.”

Gloria was back for group that morning, and she looked to the two newest teenagers. “Anything you’d like to share; what was going on, how you felt, what you did, anything. Alright? Which one of you would like to go first?” 

Emily gave Zoey a pointed look, so she cleared her throat. “Um, I will,” she volunteered.

“Wonderful,” Gloria smiled, and it was sincere. “Go ahead.”

“Okay, um. Well, I’ve been cutting for a long time now,” she began. “Like – wow, I guess three years now. Just little ones, though, um… nothing serious.” 

There was a rule that you couldn’t share details on self harm or medication, so Zoey kept the scissors versus razor blades thing out of her sharing. 

“Then in the summer… last summer… I was raped.” It still felt horrible to say it out loud. “I didn’t know what to do or how I was supposed to cope, and so my brain shut my voice off. I just couldn’t talk anymore.”

Gloria was nodding. 

“I… well, I felt like a huge burden to my family. I didn’t tell them what happened, but they found out anyway, and they’re really… So after a couple weeks, I left. And I don’t just mean, like, I moved in with a friend. I hitchhiked all the way to Arizona, and I slept in the woods by a gas station for a while, and then I wound up staying in a runaway shelter for almost a year. I liked it there,” she admitted quietly. “But life happens, so I came back to LA, and my family put me in therapy, which hasn’t been bad. And I got my voice back. So… things were better I guess. At least from the outside. But I felt the same on the inside. Maybe worse.”

She fiddled with her bandages. She could feel everyone – except Rose – staring at her, but she continued.

“And then…” She sighed. She hadn’t talked about this part out loud yet, so she steeled herself, trying to prepare. “I’d been thinking about fucking..." She swallowed. "...killing myself already. I had been for a really long time. But then my house was robbed while me and my mom were home. And I’m not close with my mom – I didn’t know her at all up until recently, and she’s not really a nice person, so - well, that part’s not important I guess. But anyway, I was there. And they tied me up like in a fucking movie and left me on the ground, and I just shut down. There was nothing else to do after but attempt suicide, so…” She held up her hands to draw the circle’s attention to the wrapping on her wrists.

“What do you mean ‘there was nothing else to do?’” Gloria asked. 

“I… I guess I just mean that I didn’t feel like I had other options. It didn’t make sense to stay alive after that.”

“Why?” 

Zoey shrugged and then quickly raised a hand to her lips as tears flooded her eyes. “It just reminded me a lot of what happened to me last year,” she said, her voice broken. “And I felt like it’s going to happen over and over. And I don’t want a life like that. I don’t want to be in that situation ever again.” 

Gloria nodded. “Are you glad you’re alive?” she inquired.

“Yeah, a little,” she replied, sniffing and wiping her eyes with her sleeve. “For my brothers’ sake. They were… they were really fucked up about it in the hospital.”

“Thank you for sharing that, Zoey. I know that wasn’t easy. Your psych nurse will want to talk about all of this with you in a little bit.”

Zoey nodded and curled her wavy hair behind her ear. Emily gave her a sad smile.

“Braden?” Gloria prompted, and Zoey felt relieved when all the eyes shifted off of her and over to the boy.

She looked down at her lap as he started speaking, only half listening to him talk about hitting his little sister. She tried to move her left pinkie and ring finger, but it was to no avail. A glance up at the clock told her that there were thirty minutes still left of morning group; she tried not to let herself dread it. When it was over, there would be nothing else to do anyway.

 

* * *

 

Nate drove the fifteen or twenty minutes from the coast up to the Westwood district. It was a bit of a challenge figuring out which building on the giant, sprawling campus he was supposed to go to, but luckily there was ample signage that kept him from having to stop and ask for directions. He fucking hated asking for directions. He got that from his father. 

His fingers tapped lightly on the steering wheel as he pulled into a parking space where he could see the entrance to the medical center through his windshield. He pulled his hood up and slid his sunglasses up the bridge of his nose as not to be recognized, and then he settled in to wait.

He was pretty early; the visiting hour wasn’t until four, and it was barely 3:35. He wanted to be sure to be there when whoever it was walked in. 

He listened to the radio to keep himself calm. A few times he startled because a man with short hair headed for the door, but it was never Clint Walker. After ten minutes, he spotted the visitor. His eyebrows creased in wonder as they entered the building; that was one of the last people he would have expected to call immediately and make an appointment to see his little sister. But there they were.

Nate knew Zoey would be safe. For a moment, he debated driving home, but he figured he’d stay and see if he could get a report. Not only on his sister, but the building and the staff as well. And hopefully the other patients. He tugged his hood off but kept the sunglasses on. He turned up the radio, grabbed a pen, flipped over an old napkin from In-N-Out, and started doodling.

 

* * *

 

Lunch passed (lukewarm chili, soggy snap peas, and stale cornbread), and then afternoon group, where they filled out a worksheet and talked about their families. Even though hours had gone by, there was still no word from the psych nurse. Zoey and Emily had just gotten to their room and sat down on their beds when a nurse Zoey didn’t recognize came to the door.

“Which one of you is Zoey?” he asked.

“Me,” Zoey volunteered.

“Okay. Come with me. You have a visitor.”

“Lucky,” Emily said again.

Zoey followed him down to the cafeteria, which had been cleaned out and just looked like a regular room. There was a girl sitting in a chair facing the wall, and she turned when she heard Zoey and the nurse approaching.

“Zee!” she cried, getting up out of her chair.

Zoey blinked, surprised but happy. “Sky!” She went to her friend and gave her a hug.

Sky squeezed her tightly. “Oh my god, are you okay?” she asked, immediately concerned as soon as they’d gotten the hug out of the way. 

Zoey tried to nod convincingly. “Yeah… sort of.” 

Sky squeezed the sides of her shoulders and gave her another hug. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

“What are you doing here?” Zoey asked once they let go, leading the way back to the table Sky had been sitting at and taking the seat across from her. 

“Well, I heard you were in the hospital, and then I did some research, and I found out you were here. So of course I had to come see you. This was as soon as they’d let me come.” 

“How did you hear?” Zoey asked. 

“Oh, you don’t know about the Sherdog post, do you?” Sky asked, as though it had just occurred to her.

She sounded cryptic, and it made Zoey nervous. “Um… no?”

She sighed and leaned forward. “They took my phone, so I can’t show it to you. But basically… Nate posted about what happened online. And… he put in some details.”

Zoey’s eyes were wide. “What? Why?” 

“People were being dicks about Navy Street being closed, I guess. It was a fighters-only board, but it's on the front page now. Nate went on there and blasted them, but it got really personal. He called everybody a bunch of names, even people inside the gym. And then he said something about finding you bleeding out on the floor and the people in the hospital saying you weren’t going to live through the night?” Sky said hesitantly. 

Only one thing really stuck out to Zoey. “Nate found me?” she asked quietly. She looked troubled.

“Zee, I’m so sorry,” Sky said, and she truly looked it. She reached a hand across the table and set it on top of Zoey’s. “I thought you knew.” 

“No… I didn’t get to see them that much before they moved me in here. And we didn’t really… talk about it.”

Sky nodded, understanding. “Yeah, I get that. This shit happened to me, too, once. I was in the ER, and then the second I was stable, they sent me to a psych ward.”

“What did you do?” Zoey asked, her head tilted in curiosity. 

Sky smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. She looked away. “It was a long time ago. It doesn’t matter now.” She turned back to Zoey. “So anyway. What’s it like here? How’s the food?”

Zoey snorted a laugh. “The food’s okay. And my roommate seems pretty nice - she’s helping me try to get the fuck out of here. Teaching me what to do. And, you know, what not to do.” 

There was a nurse sitting in the corner working on a stack of paperwork. He was listening, but not actively. Zoey was still careful of what she said. 

“They’re making me talk about stuff I don’t want to talk about, but...” She shrugged.

“Yeah. Just do what you need to. They’re here to help you. And you’ll be out of here soon enough.”

“Yeah. I miss my brothers,” she admitted.

“They miss you, too,” Sky told her.

Zoey met her eyes.

“I mean, I didn’t see them or anything,” she backtracked. “Just, I could tell from the post that Nate was really upset. And I know you two are really close. He said in the post that you guys are best friends.” 

“We are,” Zoey replied. Aside from the time he was yelling at her, Nate had never acknowledged their ‘best friend’-ship with anything other than a ‘you, too,’ so even though the situation was less than ideal, it was nice to hear that he’d written the words out. “Um. Have you seen Jay?” 

Sky shook her head. “No. Nobody has. Joe Daddy taught a class on the beach – he posted about it on the website, and like thirty people showed up, and we thought Jay might be there… Joe said it was Jay’s kind of thing. And I get why; it was so much fun. We sparred and wrestled, and stuff. And it was way harder in the sand,” she laughed, “even harder than I thought it’d be. I’m sure you can imagine. I had to wash my hair twice. And I’m pretty sure there’s still sand in my sports bra. But we were all laughing, and it was really laid back and fun.” 

Zoey smiled. “Did Nate go?” she asked hopefully.

Sky shook her head again, and her voice grew serious. “No. Nobody’s seen him either. We were all really, really worried about you guys. Everybody was texting each other trying to figure out what the hell had happened.”

Zoey looked down.

“No, hey. It’s not your fault,” Sky insisted, rubbing her hand over Zoey’s bandages. “We just couldn’t get them to answer the phones, you know? The building was locked, and Joe Daddy could have opened it, but he said your dad asked him not to. Ryan was the only one who we could reach that actually knew anything, but he wouldn’t talk about it. Said your dad wanted it private.”

Zoey was so grateful for Ryan and his loyalty. She ached to give him another hug. 

“And I was calling you and Nate and the gym every day, but nobody picked up. I thought somebody died. And…” She looked sadly at Zoey. “I guess somebody almost did.” 

“If you see my brothers, can you tell them I love them?” Zoey pleaded, pushing the conversation back away from herself. 

“Of course.”

“Ryan, too. He counts as a brother.”

“Okay.”

Zoey relaxed a little. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, no problem. But I wanted to see you, cause like I said, I’ve been in one of these places before. I know how depressing it can be.”

“’s not so bad,” Zoey admitted. 

Sky raised her eyebrows, a skeptical smile on her lips. The lip gloss on them shone, even under the sickly yellow light. 

Zoey couldn’t help but smile at her. “Catch me up,” she commanded, desperate for a change of subject. “What’s going on in the real world? I haven’t heard anything but ‘blood pressure’ and ‘depression’ and ‘stitches’ for the last fucking week.” 

“Um… you know Ferguson?” 

“Where the shooting was?”

“Yeah. They’re in a state of emergency right now. Literally. The mayor declared it a couple days ago. There was a peaceful protest, but then there was gunfire and an 18 year old guy died.” 

“Holy shit,” Zoey muttered. 

“Yeah. It… it’s not good. What else… um – oh, Donald Trump is in first place in the polls after the first Republican debate.” 

Zoey sighed. “Oh, geez.”

“You’re fired!” Sky said seriously, pointing at her. 

Zoey burst into giggles. Sky grinned at her, laughing a little herself. 

“No, it’s _so_ bad, though,” Sky confessed after they stopped laughing. “For real. He – there’s this girl reporter on Fox, I guess – I don’t watch the news, so I don’t know – but he was complaining about her and the questions she asked during the debate, and he accused her of being on her period.”

“What?” Zoey asked incredulously. 

“And it gets worse.” 

“What?” 

“The way he said it,” Sky said, shaking her head and rolling her eyes. “He was like, ‘there was blood coming out of her eyes, blood coming out of her… wherever.’”

Zoey’s eyes about bugged out of her head. “Oh, fuck.”

“Yeah. He was supposed to go on some talk show or something the next day, but the network he was gonna go on cancelled the interview.”

“Good,” Zoey replied firmly.

“Yeah. He’s awful.” 

“Jay used to love him – he watched Celebrity Apprentice, like, all the time. But I guess part of the loving him is liking how fucking obnoxious he is.”

“Very obnoxious,” Sky agreed. “But anyway – how are _you?_ Are you gonna get to come home soon?” 

“I hope so,” Zoey sighed. 

“This is day two, right?”

“Yeah. I got here yesterday morning.” 

She nodded. “Okay. So you’re more than halfway through the 72 hours,” she smiled.

Zoey smiled, too, blowing out a breath. “That sounds so fucking good when you say it out loud. God, I just want some fucking pancakes, you know?”

Sky squeezed her hand. “Soon, babe.”

“Yeah,” Zoey replied wistfully. 

Sky gave her a smile. 

They talked some more, about Sky’s family and how her apartment got really cold every night (a fact that Zoey already knew, but she listened intently anyway), and - literally - what the weather was like outside. The conversation was so wonderful; Zee couldn’t remember feeling _happy_ in so long. But she could feel it right there with Sky at the table. She could feel it when Sky’s eyes gleamed and her lips sparkled. She could really feel it when Sky laughed.

In that instant, she was glad she was alive. She said as much. 

“Why?” Sky asked, seeming surprised at the sudden revelation. 

“Cause we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now if I wasn't. And I like talking to you and I’m really glad you’re here.”

Sky smiled shyly and gave a soft laugh. “I’m glad.”

There were two short beeps from behind them, the sound a watch would make. “Five minutes, ladies,” the nurse warned.

The girls wrapped up their conversation, and when it was time to go, they gave each other a long hug.

“I’m gonna call your brother today,” Sky promised. 

Zoey knew she was talking about Nate. “Thank you,” she responded sincerely, squeezing her as best she could with her damaged arms. 

“Stay positive,” Sky quietly advised. “That’s the most important thing right now.”

Zoey pulled back and nodded. “Thank you so much for coming. It was _so_ fucking good to see you.” 

Sky smiled again, softer this time. “It was great to see you, too, Zee.” She reached down and squeezed Zoey’s good hand. “I missed you.”

“Take care of Nate,” Zoey called as Sky headed for the door. 

“I will,” she affirmed. “Be good!”

Zoey chuckled. “You, too.” She headed back to her room feeling lighter and twenty times more hopeful for the future. She had _friends_ now. It had barely been thirty seconds since she’d left, but Zoey already couldn’t wait to see Sky again.

 

* * *

 

Nate had taken a seat on a bench outside to be sure to catch Sky on her way out of the hospital. He caught sight of her coming through the doors and stood where he was but was sure not to approach her (Zoey had warned him that most of the girls she knew didn’t like men coming toward them when they weren’t expecting it). “Sky!” he called. 

She looked up from her phone, which she’d stopped under the awning to type on. “Nate! Hey!” she chirped, walking toward him. “I was just about to call you!” She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him down by the neck into a hug. Her purse bumped his side. 

He hugged her back with one arm. “Did you see my sister?” he asked quietly. 

“Yeah, I did.”

“How’d she look?” he prompted, trying not to let his desperation seep into his voice. 

He looked worried but hopeful. Sky could feel her heart twinge at his expression. “Good. She’s doing really good. Here, come sit down,” she suggested, motioning him back to his bench. 

“What’d she say?” 

“She likes her roommate,” Sky remembered. “Her name is Emily, and Zee says she’s nice and that she’s helping her figure out how things work there.”

Nate nodded, processing.

“The nurses are nice… she says they wake her up early in the morning, and that checks are annoying.” Sky chuckled to herself. “Which they are.” 

“Checks?” he echoed. 

“In psych hospitals, the nurses come by every fifteen minutes to make sure the patients are okay. Sometimes if people are _really_ suicidal, they do every five minutes. But Zee says they do fifteen minutes here, even at nighttime.” 

Nate tried to imagine what it would be like to be accounted for constantly like that. He didn't think he'd like it very much.

“And other than that, we didn’t really talk about it. She says they have group a lot… but she wanted to hear about what’s going on outside the hospital, you know? I think she’s already tired of it. And she really, really misses you and Jay. She kept telling me that.”

Nate nodded, wishing he could break into the ward his sister was in to see her. He knew from the moment she was born that he was supposed to protect her. Always. And now he couldn’t.

“But yeah, she looked clean; she had color in her face, and she didn’t look tired or drugged or anything like that. She said the food’s okay.”

“Jay’ll be fucking glad to hear that,” Nate offered, trying to lighten the mood. “He always worries that we’re not getting enough to eat.” It was leftover from the same stressor when they were kids, but Nate didn’t volunteer that information.

“Well, she’s eating,” Sky assured him. “They’re actually going to start dinner in like an hour, so…”

“Um, speaking of dinner,” Nate rushed out before he could change his mind, “can I buy you a meal?” 

Sky raised her eyebrows. “Why?” 

He awkwardly tucked his hands into his pockets. “As a thank you. I’ve been… worried about her,” he forced out, “and I’m just – I’m glad you came by. I think it was better that she saw you instead of me or Jay.” He ended with a shrug. 

Sky looked at him for a moment, deciding. “Okay,” she finally answered.

He nodded. “Okay.”


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We will be getting back into full plot very soon!! This is the last week of rehashing things.  
> And I hope you all saw that we got a premiere date on the 5th! Season 3 will be starting on May 31st :))))  
> One more thing: Anyone remember Tami Taylor from Friday Night Lights? (Shoutout baby Matt Lauria and Kiele's real-life husband Zach Gilford.) Keep an eye out.  
> Enjoy!
> 
> Oh, and also! I posted a new oneshot. Check my author page :)

“Tell me a little bit about yourself.”

Nate held his hands out, not knowing what to say. He was sitting on a therapist’s couch, somewhere he didn’t expect to find himself so soon. And even though he didn’t feel ready for any of this, he knew – logically – that it was the right thing to do. Not only to give his father some peace of mind, but also for himself.

“Uh, my name’s Nate,” he replied dully. “I’m 22. I’m a professional fighter.”

“What else?” 

“I don’t know.” 

She gave him a disbelieving smile. “You don’t know?”

“I… like movies and video games?” he replied, more of a question than a statement. 

He got a small smile for that. “Okay. So, Nate… can you tell me why you’re here today?”

“Uh.” He shifted awkwardly on the couch. “My dad wanted me to come.” 

“And why is that?”

Nate shrugged.

She waited.

When he realized she wasn’t going to speak, he supplied, “My, um. My sister tried to kill herself. And my dad thinks I’m… _angry_ , so.” 

“I’m sorry to hear about your sister,” the woman responded, and there was real sympathy in her voice. _Dr. Taylor,_ Nate reminded himself – she wasn’t just some woman. Dad said he’d be coming here for at least a month.

He shrugged again. “’s fine.” 

“How is she doing now?”

“Uh, she’s okay.” 

Dr. Taylor waited patiently for him to elaborate. Several seconds passed.

“I saw her yesterday,” he finally offered. “At the hospital, I mean.”

“Which hospital?” 

“UCLA.” 

“That’s a good one.”

He sat silently. 

“Did you talk to her?” Dr. Taylor prompted. 

“Yeah.”

“And what did she say?”

He shrugged.

She nodded for a moment, trying to figure out what to say. “Did you ask her about her attempt?”

“No.”

Dr. Taylor looked him over. “Nate, we’re not going to get anywhere if I can’t get answers out of you. I’m here to help you sort things out, but I can’t do that if I don’t have anything to work with.”

“I know,” he replied, talking more to the carpet than the therapist sitting in front of him.

“Do you _want_ me to help you?”

His answer was honest. “I don’t know.” 

“Are you anxious about discussing what happened?” she asked as she honed in on his body language.

He sat still for a long moment. He could hear the ticking of the second hand on the wall clock behind him. Then he gave one nod. 

“Alright. Shall we talk about something else first?” 

Nate nodded again.

“Okay, that seems reasonable. Can you tell me about a happy memory with your sister?” 

Nate thought for a moment. “I got her a dog for her birthday a couple weeks ago. She was so happy that she cried.”

“And that was happy for you, too?”

“Yeah. She’d been… depressed for a long time. And being able to give her something to make her happy – it felt good.”

“Tell me more about that.”

“About the dog, or about her being depressed?”

The therapist held a hand out, indicating to him that he could choose which to elaborate on. 

“Okay. The dog’s name is Abigail. I , uh, got her at the animal shelter down on Pico… the West LA Animal Shelter or whatever. I brought her home the night before Zebra’s birthday so I’d have her in the morning. It was fucking tough keeping her a secret when my sister was literally across the hallway from me. But I did it, and she was really surprised.”

“Zebra is what you call your sister?”

“Oh,” Nate faltered. “Uh, yeah. She’s Zoey, though.”

The therapist made a note. “That was really nice of you to get her something so special,” she commented as she wrote.

“She’s always wanted a dog,” Nate explained. “Brought it up from time to time, but Jay always said no.”

Dr. Taylor glanced at her clipboard. “And Jay is…?” 

“Oh. Yeah. Um, Jay’s my older brother.” 

“And how old is he?”  
  
“He’s 28. About to be 29.”

“Why was he the one making the decision about getting a dog?”

“We moved out of my dad’s house when I was in second grade. Jay was the oldest, so he was in charge.”

“Who moved out?” 

“Me and Jay and my sister.” 

“Why?”

Nate looked awkwardly around the room. “My dad was getting…” He softly cleared his throat. “More violent, I guess. And Jay didn’t want me and my sister around for that.”

Dr. Taylor wrote for a long moment and then read over something else on her clipboard. Nate was just starting to worry that he’d said the wrong thing when the woman suddenly said, sounding sad and surprised, “Oh, honey.”

Nate just looked at her, wondering what she’d seen. 

“You were the one who found your sister after she tried to kill herself?”

Nate clenched his jaw. 

“Are you comfortable talking about that today?” 

“No.” The answer was clipped and to the point. No way in hell was he talking about that. Not today, not ever.  
  
Dr. Taylor nodded. “Alright. What shall we discuss instead?”

Nate shrugged. Truthfully, he didn’t want to tell her about anything.

“Okay. Here’s what I want you to do. I want you to just start talking. Tell me whatever it is you want to say, whatever crosses your mind. Anything in the world, okay?” She sat back in her chair and lifted her right leg over her left to get more comfortable. 

Nate hated her for putting him on the spot, but he knew that he was being difficult and that he probably deserved it. He cleared his throat again. “I’m mad at my sister,” he admitted. “I know I’m supposed to be supporting her, and my brother kept telling her that we weren’t mad at her, but I am. I’m really fucking mad. And that’s not fair because she almost died, but I just. I can’t fucking believe she tried to kill herself, you know?” 

Dr. Taylor nodded.

“She was always this happy kid. And we’re a resilient family – at least, I like to think so. But she let us down. She made us look weak.” 

He rubbed a hand over his eyes and let out a breath. “That’s – that’s not what I meant. Just, usually when stuff goes wrong, it’s private. It stays in the family and we deal with it quietly. But this time it affected fucking everyone, not just the family. Everybody that has _any_ involvement with the gym at all knows what happened, and I was pissed at everyone online that was speculating and complaining, and I went and wrote this huge fucking… post, I guess, about what happened. The people on the message boards are calling it a ‘rant,’ but… Yeah, I told the whole fucking world that I found Zoey fucking bleeding on the floor. They were talking shit about me and my dad and my brother, and I wanted to shut them up. But I threw Zoey under the bus. Nobody was supposed to know, and I just put it out there like it was nothing. And thousands and thousands of people have read it, but my dad told me not to take it down.” 

“Why not?”

“I think… I guess he thinks it would look like we changed our minds or something, and he thinks that’s weakness. Besides, fucking everybody already read it anyway. There’s no point in pulling it off of there now.” 

“Strength is important to you,” Dr. Taylor observed. “Both personally and in the image other people have of you.”

Nate nodded.

“And Zoey’s suicide attempt broke that illusion of your family’s strength.”

Nate nodded again.

“Have people been confronting you about what happened to her?”

“Yeah,” he muttered. 

“What do they say?” 

“They ask if she’s okay. And then they ask if me and my brother are okay. And my dad.”

“So they really care about you,” Dr. Taylor told him, a kind smile on her lips. 

“It’s like a big family at the gym,” he replied dismissively. 

“Yes, but they could just ask if your sister is okay and then leave it alone, but they’re not. They’re asking about _you_ , too.” 

“Well, we’re-” he began, but he cut himself off. 

“You’re what?” 

Nate sighed. “It sounds fucking stupid when you say it out loud, but me and my sister are good friends. Best friends. We always hang out, and people see that. If they’re looking for her, they usually look for me, and it goes the other way, too.” 

“That’s a very, very special thing to have with a sibling.” 

His voice grew softer. “I know.” 

“What’s it like not having her home right now?” 

Nate pursed his lips for a moment and then admitted, “’s not as bad as I thought. I was worried at first, but I’m not now.” 

“Why’s that?” 

It was getting easier, the whole talking thing. The more he did it, the less awkward and horrible it felt. It was almost… it was almost _good_ to say the things he was thinking. Like he could physically relax. He didn’t realize that it had felt like a heavy weight was pressing down on his chest until the pressure started to be relieved.

“I saw her yesterday. She looked good. A lot more like herself than she used to. I think it’s been good for her in there. They think she’ll be able to come home today or tomorrow.”

“That’s wonderful, Nate,” Dr. Taylor smiled.

“Yeah. And they started her on, um.” He drummed his fingers on his knee, trying to remember. “It sounds like her name. Zo-something.”

“Zoloft?” 

“Yeah, Zoloft. That’s the – she really needed that. Cause she can’t do it on her own.”

“Has she been on medication before?”

“Nah. We’d talked about it, but she never actually did it.” 

“Has she ever been in therapy?”

Nate looked ashamed as he nodded. 

“That upset you,” Dr. Taylor noted. “Why?”

Nate went through several brief flashes of emotion in a span of mere seconds. He was angry at himself and disappointed in Zoey. He missed Sam and how much he’d helped not just Zoey, but the entire family. But in a way, Sam had failed Zoey as well, and that made Nate even angrier. He regretted ratting Zoey out to Sam. He regretted not pushing her harder to go to the ER, to get treatment for her arm, to find a psychiatrist. To get some hope. Then he grew resigned, remembering that the damage was already done. 

“She really liked her therapist,” Nate murmured, “but they had a suicide contract.”

“Ah,” Dr. Taylor sighed. One corner of her mouth tipped down.

“I called him after she was admitted to the ICU, and I told him what happened. He wasn’t mad or anything… I don’t think he was fucking surprised, either. None of us have spoken to him since. I was gonna call him, but it felt wrong, so.”

After that confession, Nate started to feel a little tired. He understood then why Zoey would come home from therapy and not want to do anything for the rest of the day. It was good, yes, but it was exhausting, confessing all his secrets. He wondered how the fuck Zoey was getting through three group therapy sessions and a psych nurse appointment every day.

Still, he continued.

“When we were in the hospital, I couldn’t leave her,” Nate admitted, his mouth moving without his mind’s consent. He hadn’t realized that so many things had built up inside of him. “My dad kept trying to get me to leave her room and go home – I’d been wearing the same clothes for three days, and I wasn’t sleeping, and I hadn’t showered, so I still had blood all over my feet from…” He blinked hard at the memory. “And then I just fucking lost it when my brother showed up. We hadn’t, uh. We hadn’t told him what was going on with Zebra since he’s been… well, he’s been shooting H.”

Dr. Taylor’s pen started moving again on the paper. Nate remembered the way Zoey and Alvey had ignored that in the previous sessions, so Nate tried to as well.

“I didn’t want him in the hospital when he was strung out, cause he always stirs shit up and gets kicked out of wherever he is. But when I saw him – and I didn’t even know he had heard what happened – I just started fucking crying. And I never fucking do that. My dad was there, and a family friend, and I was in the middle of a fucking hallway, crying like a little kid. I couldn’t have stopped to save my life.” He swallowed. “Freaked me the fuck out.”

“You lost your self-control.”

Nate nodded. “Yeah.” He gritted his teeth and admitted, “I had a panic attack, too. The first night.”

“That’s all normal in a frightening situation, Nate.”

“Not for me,” he snapped.

“Take a breath…” she said kindly. 

He did. His chest felt a little tight, and he wondered how she’d picked up on that.

“Again,” she instructed.

Somehow, it helped.

“Okay?” she asked, looking closely at him.

He nodded.

“There is nothing wrong with expressing your emotion through tears, Nate.” 

He remained stonily silent.

“You’re human. I want you to remember that, alright? You can give yourself permission to cry.”

He looked up at her then, silently challenging her.

“I can tell you a thousand times that it’s okay. That it’s healthy. That it’s normal, that it’s good for you. But only you can give yourself that permission.”

He cast his eyes away from the discussion. 

“Tell me more about this gym you keep mentioning. What’s the story there?” 

They talked about that for quite a while, mostly with Dr. Taylor asking questions and Nate answering them in as few words as possible. Sometimes he even offered up information without being prompted, and he was starting to learn that those moments made Dr. Taylor seem happy in the same way they made Jay seem happy.

“So you said your sister will be coming home from the hospital soon?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you excited to see her?”

From their previous exchanges about Nate and Zoey’s relationship, it was clear that the expected answer would be that of course Nate was excited. But that wasn’t quite the case.

“Yes and no.” 

She looked at him curiously. “Why no?”

Nate exhaled heavily, rubbing his hands over his eyes. “She's depressed as fuck, and she's a cutter. She wants to die. I just don’t think she’ll be okay yet, you know? That shit doesn't just go away. I don’t think she’s ready to come home.” 

“Well, Nate, the hospital is for people in immediate crisis. She may still be severely depressed, but the doctors wouldn’t send her home unless they truly believed she was safe.” 

“So… what happens after, then?” 

“Well, there are several options. The first is to do nothing, which – obviously – I don’t recommend. The second is that she can continue her meds and go back to therapy. There are some great programs that allow people to go into the hospital in the mornings for therapy and come home in the afternoon. It’s called partial hospitalization. That might be a good fit for her. I'm sure they're helping her figure out next steps at the hospital, but I’ll print out some resources for you before you leave, alright?”

Nate nodded. 

“And the third option is that she go into an inpatient treatment program.” 

“Isn’t that what she’s doing now?” 

“No. From what I gathered, she’s been placed on a 72 hour hold, yes?” 

Nate nodded again. 

“So once that’s up, she’ll likely be released back home.” 

“It’s been more than 72 hours already.” 

She gave him a little smile. “By what, a day or two?"

He nodded.

"That’s normal. Most people end up staying six or seven days instead of three. Or at least four. The first thing that happens is that they have to be stabilized and the treated. And before they can go home, the doctors and nurses all have to agree that the patient is ready to be leave the hospital. They also have to be sure that the patient has a safe place to go. After that, they still have to do a lot of paperwork before a patient can get discharged.” 

“Oh.”

“Yeah. It’s always slow. I tell my husband, ‘everything in the hospital takes four times as long as you think it should.’” 

Nate did give a small smile at that. “Yeah, that sounds right.” 

He left the session a few minutes later with a business card and the need for a nap.

 

* * *

 

“We have some new faces today. I want everyone to say hello to Faith and Hailey.”

“Hi,” the other five teenagers replied. 

Rose was still in the circle, and Braden. The skinny girl had gone home the day after Zoey had arrived, but somehow, Emily was still Zoey’s roommate. Every day, Emily had been sure that she was going home, but every day, her release was denied. There had been lots of tears, and Zoey had tried to be encouraging. Her heart was heavy when she heard her name called on that day’s discharge list but not Emily’s. She’d given Emily an apologetic smile, and the other girl tried to smile back. Before thirty seconds had passed after the discharge announcement ended, Emily excused herself to the bathroom.

Zoey knew she was crying again. Still, she had to think of herself. She was so fucking glad to be going home. She couldn’t wait to see Sky and her brothers. 

“I want everyone to think for a moment on something that happened either in the hospital or right before you got here that you weren’t expecting,” Anthony prompted. He had been a night nurse on Zoey’s hall for two out of the three nights she’d spent there, and Zoey had grown to like him. He sang a lot, just being silly and trying to cheer everyone up, but he did have a pretty nice voice. And he was kind, which was always the most important thing to Zoey.

“I have one,” Zoey said immediately.

“Alright, Zoey, go ahead.”

“When I tried to kill myself, I didn’t think that I’d stop being able to move my fingers.”

“What?” one of the new patients asked.

Zoey wasn’t sure which name went with which girl, but she held up her left hand and wiggled her middle and pointer fingers and her thumb. The other two remained completely immobile. 

“Whoa,” she murmured, seemingly fascinated.

“What else, Zoey? Something not physical.”

“Um… I guess if I’d thought about it ahead of time, my dad would have been the last person I thought would be with me when I woke up. But it was him.” 

“And why didn’t you think he would be there?” 

Zoey cast her eyes down. “I feel like he doesn’t really care about me that much.” 

Anthony replied, “I’m sure if he was with you, then he cares.” 

Zoey nodded. He was right. Dad did care about her in his own way. That was something she’d finally accepted while she was on the psych ward. He cared, even if, as Lisa had said, he was ‘just fucking terrible at showing it.’ 

“Who else?” Anthony asked, turning to the circle. 

Zoey listened as Emily said that she didn’t expect to be allowed to restrict as well as she did here every day. (Zoey had finally figured out what restricting meant, and she knew that saying shit like that was why Emily wasn’t allowed to go home. Why couldn’t she take her own advice and just fake it and act like everything was fine? Zoey was also starting to discover that ‘fake it til you make it’ was actually really, really effective.) 

Anthony made a brief note on his notepad and quickly moved on to one of the new girls, who said she didn’t expect her mom to cry when she got arrested. Rose, in a moment of clarity, admitted that she didn’t expect her medicine to start working.

Group went for another thirty minutes, and then Zoey was being called to meet with a man who smiled a lot, made her sign a bunch of papers, and gave her a bag of what he called ‘go home clothes.’ She recognized her braided Rainbow flip flops, the soft John Bender shirt she’d been wearing on her birthday, and a pair of her favorite light denim shorts. 

She was excused to a staff bathroom to change (the only bathrooms were in the bedrooms, and Zoey had been removed from that section of the ward), and she was eager to peel the white V-neck off and get rid of the blue scrubs. They hadn’t been uncomfortable; not at all. But they were a mark that she was Less Than. That something was Wrong with her. That she was Damaged.

Zoey pulled on her bra first – a real bra! Finally! – and then her shirt. She ran her fingers over the bamboo cotton. As she stepped into the denim, she noticed something; there was a note slipped into the left pocket. _Can’t wait to see you,_ it read in Nate’s thin blend of cursive and print. Underneath it, there was a bigger script and a large, bubbly heart. _Me, too! Love, Sky_.

Zoey smiled. She’d missed them so much. She pressed the note close her chest, knowing that she’d be taping this onto her nightstand soon. She was going _home!_  

A few moments later, Zoey came out of the bathroom feeling _much_ more like herself again. She was met with a warm, “Hey.”

She looked up. Standing several feet away was her father.

“Dad?” she asked incredulously.

He held an arm out towards her. 

She grinned and walked quickly to him, throwing her arms around his middle and resting her ear against his chest. She was surprised to feel him grab her in a hug as well and even more surprised when he pressed his lips to the top of her head. They didn’t speak, but they didn’t need to. The hug was enough. 

“Your, uh. Your brothers are waiting outside. And Sky. I had to come sign some papers, so.”

Zoey nodded and took her father’s large, calloused hand as they walked out of the psych ward and into the fourth floor corridor. She could feel him looking at her wrist. The bandages had been removed that morning, and all that was left were the grisly, black stitches, all seven inches of them. She was glad her father had her right hand; the laceration on her left arm looked much, much worse than the one on the right. 

She and Alvey rode down to the first floor in the elevator and walked through the lobby. Alvey tried to freeze the memory in his mind of her holding his hand and making him feel like a father again. He hoped he’d remember the swell he could feel in his chest.

As soon as they were out of the automatic doors and Zoey’s eyes landed on her family, she squealed. She let go of Alvey and ran straight for Jay, who was already walking quickly toward her. He picked her up and squeezed her so tightly it hurt. She didn’t complain. She hugged him tightly around the neck as he whispered in her ear that he loved her and that he was so sorry. She nodded and kissed him on the cheek. He set her down and squeezed her again, running a hand over her hair.

Then Sky was waiting for her. “Hey,” she grinned.

Zoey laughed, hugging her closest girl friend. “I missed you!”

“I missed you, too.” 

She smelled like those bright red cherries they put on top of ice cream sundaes, and Zoey loved the way Sky’s fingers laced between her own before they pulled apart.

Then it was Nate’s turn; he was looking solemn and neutral, but Zoey could feel a tangle of mixed emotions swirling in his chest. He was glad she was out of the hospital. He was nervous that she might still be unwell. He had definitely noticed her arms; they all had. But she was done hiding from them. They knew her secret, they knew how bad it was, they knew what had happened to her and what she did, and they were still there for her. They still stood outside the hospital for god knows how long, waiting for her to come through the doors. They still loved her. She didn’t have to lie or hide any more, and it was overwhelming.

“Hey,” Nate mumbled. He pulled his arm around Zoey’s shoulders and led the way to Jay’s pickup.

They were going home.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> describing scars, more stitches mentions

“Alright, come on,” Nate commanded as he and his sister walked through the empty Navy Street parking lot. He beeped the horn on his car over and over as they headed into the gym. 

“Why can’t I just wait in the car?” Zoey complained. “I don’t understand why you couldn’t come get your fucking water bottle without me. Am I that untrustworthy now?”

“Yes,” Nate replied shortly.

Zoey blew out an angry breath. “Fuck you.” 

“Uh-huh,” he muttered distractedly. He kicked his foot into the glass door twice and then loudly coughed and cleared his throat several times as he opened the door. 

Zoey stopped walking and stared at him. “The fuck is wrong with you?”

He shook his head and held the door open for her. All the lights were off, but as soon as Nate came in behind her and flipped them on, there was a loud cheer. 

_“SURPRISE!”_

Zoey nearly screamed, but she managed to keep it together by grabbing onto Nate’s elbow and digging her nails in.

Nate winced in pain, but Zoey had already let go was and grinning widely, flying toward Ryan. He opened his arms for her and lifted her off the ground for a huge, all-consuming hug. Her feet dangled in the air. “You scared me to fucking death, you know,” he said. It wasn’t accusing; just a casual fact. She nodded. He kissed her hair and then her cheek, and she held onto him until he returned her feet to the floor. 

Sky and Jay were on either side of Ryan, and then there was Shelby, Joe Daddy and all three of his children, Juan and his wife, Alvey, and even Abigail was there. Christina had come, and Alicia and Keith, and a bunch of the guys from the gym. Zoey was so happy to see them all. 

Many tight hugs were given to both Zoey and Nate, and many eyes stared at her several inches of stitches. She wished Nate had warned her to cover up, but she remembered that everyone at the little gathering already knew what had happened anyway.

Joe Daddy embraced her tightly. After a second, he murmured into her ear, “I told the kids your brain is sick and that you got big boo-boos on your arms. I didn’t know what else to say. They’re too young.” 

She nodded in understanding. “I’m so sorry.”

“No, don’t be. Don’t be.” He patted her shoulder and let her go. “I love you,” he stated. 

“I love you, too.” 

And then the three little boys were swarming around her for hugs and trying to kiss her cheeks. She knelt down so they could all reach her, and she closed her eyes as their tiny, grabby hands found her face and shoulders.

"Be gentle, you guys," Joe chastised.

Zoey couldn’t help but laugh. 

Alicia was next, not embracing her, but looking guilty and awkwardly apologizing for not understanding that Zoey was in danger. 

“It’s okay,” Zoey told her sincerely. “You weren’t supposed to know.”

Of course, when it was Keith’s turn, he gave her a big, sweaty hug. She looked over his shoulder at Alvey, who had his nose scrunched up as he watched. Zoey couldn’t help but chuckle at his expression. 

Sky waited until the end for her hug; she’d already seen Zoey in the hospital and outside of it. Most of these people hadn’t had a shred of contact with Zoey since several days before she’d gone in. They hadn't known that anything was even wrong.

After Sky, there was Christina. 

“Hi,” they both said at the same time, and then the mother and daughter shared a small, tentative smile. 

“I’m glad you’re okay,” Christina said, and for once, Zoey didn’t have the urge to strangle her while she spoke. 

“Thanks,” Zoey replied softly. 

Christina took a few steps forward and lightly embraced her youngest child. Over Christina’s shoulder, Zoey could see her father again, but this time her two brothers were standing on either side of him. Jay looked pleased, Alvey looked neutral, and Nate looked bothered. None of them spoke, and Zoey was sure to keep her expression as blank as her father’s. Although it did feel good to get _something_ from her mother after all those months.

Nate had ordered an ice cream cake, which had always been Zoey’s favorite. The gaggle of partygoers watched as Alvey made a brief and vague 'welcome home' speech for Zoey, and then they all dove into the morning dessert. 

Several laughs, hugs, and kisses later, the party ended. Jay and Ryan – who were in a momentary truce – immediately set to running wild and whacking each other as hard as they could with blue balloons while Alvey and Nate tried their best to gather up all the streamers and stacks of used paper plates. 

“Fucking animals,” Alvey grumbled as he grabbed a handful of icing-covered plastic forks off the ground, but Nate didn’t seem bothered by the mess in the slightest. He was just glad to have his family back together. Jay was closer to sober, Zoey was happier, and Alvey was more in control of his emotions. That was what Nate needed. 

Zoey had Abigail outside as she said goodbye to everyone. Even after they had all either cleared out or gone inside to work, the girl and the dog stayed outdoors, lounging comfortably on the couch in the hot August sunshine. 

Alvey and Nate managed to get all their cleaning done – with a tiny bit of help from Ryan and Jay – before the doors opened at eleven like they were supposed to. The parking lot filled up, and fighters flooded in. It became clear to Zoey that the gym had been open while she was at UCLA. Most of the athletes said hello to her or at least came up to pet Abigail. 

With school starting up in the next few days, there were a bunch of new college guys showing up in revealing, too-tight tank tops from Urban Outfitters and American Apparel. All of them were clad in skinny short-shorts that Nate wouldn’t be caught dead in. They were the type of dudes that would skip leg day in favor of their biceps, and Zoey was laughing to herself as she watched them walk in because she knew that Nate was the one that had to get them all signed up and taken care of. What a trip. 

The guys passed her and grinned, many of them trying to flirt, but she just rolled her eyes at them and stroked the top of Abigail’s head. A few of them seemed genuinely bruised by her disinterest. One of them flipped her off, and she smiled sweetly back. 

Sky came out after her private with Alvey and convinced Zoey to come inside and jog on the treadmill with her. Zoey and Abby followed Sky up the stairs to the upper level, and the two girls hopped onto the machines. Zoey walked instead of running; she figured if she exercised enough, she might start bleeding through her stitches, and god knew if that happened, Nate would have an internal freakout. She figured it was better to take it easy for then. Of course, Zoey set up another slow treadmill for Abigail to walk on, too.

She brought up the idiot guys she’d seen outside, and Sky laughed and told her about the way Alvey had stared at them as they walked through, talking too loudly to each other and acting like they knew what the fuck was up. Sky also told her that Nate was grumbling to her about the ‘fucking wannabe frat boys,’ which just made Zoey laugh more, knowing what she knew about him. Guess they weren’t his type.

Thirty minutes later, Sky decided that she had worked out enough and that she was ready for a protein shake and some weed. Zoey elected to join her in the lounge for some chocolate milk. 

They got off the treadmills and headed back downstairs and into the lounge, where Zoey stole a huge portion of Jay’s sugar-free Hershey’s Syrup from the fridge and nearly half of his skim milk, smiling conspiratorially to Sky the whole time. They took their cups out with them, and Zoey nudged Abigail over to where Nate was watching Alicia spar with Juan in the cage. She left without telling anyone where she was going. 

Sky had some weed in her gym bag, so the two girls went down to the boardwalk and took a seat at one of the (amazingly) vacant picnic tables overlooking the ocean. They sat next to each other, which Zoey thought was a little odd, but she didn’t mind enough to comment about it.

She leaned forward and let Sky light her joint and sat back as Sky lit her own. Zoey alternated between the marijuana and the chocolate milk, which created a weird taste in her mouth, but there was something about it that made her keep going.

“You know, I used to think my life would be better if my parents were dead,” Zoey said suddenly, “but I don’t think I think that anymore.”

Sky looked over at her. “Why?”

Zoey shrugged. “I guess I thought they didn’t care about me, so it made me feel better to think that if they were dead, I wouldn’t have to feel like they didn’t love me. I mean, my mom left when we were kids, and my Dad’s always liked Nate the best.” 

“Your mom left? Christina?”

“Oh, yeah. Jay found her last year. She was a whore addicted to heroin, but he literally kidnapped her off the street and got her clean.”

“What?” Sky asked incredulously.

Zoey nodded. 

“Nate said _Jay’s_ addicted to heroin.” 

“He better not be addicted,” Zoey muttered, trying to push the idea out of her mind. She wondered what the hell had compelled Nate to share that information with Sky. “But yeah. It’s… it’s pretty fucked up. Anyway. I think after we got robbed, my mom started to care. Nate told me she asked about me while I was gone, which is…” 

The ‘huge’ was left unspoken, but Sky understood. “What about your dad?”

“I don’t know,” Zoey admitted, flicking some ashes off the end of her joint. “He’s been a lot better lately. Like… he gives me hugs and stuff now, and he didn’t used to do that. He didn’t even acknowledge me when I was in high school. But we did fucking – fucking family therapy, me and him. And it kinda was working, I guess. I think I scared the shit out of him when I tried to kill myself. Nate said Dad was there when I was dying at the house, so.” 

Sky wound her free hand through Zoey’s and laced their fingers together. She didn’t try to be subtle about staring at Zoey’s scars. 

“The other arm’s worse,” Zoey smiled. 

Sky just shook her head and took another pull of the drug “I’m glad my Dad’s dead,” Sky said dryly.

“Really?” 

She nodded. “Definitely. He was a bastard. Never gave my mom money or helped us out with anything. At all. Like, ever. He and my mom got divorced when I was like, seven. And I was really mad at first, but the older I got, the more I understood. She was better without him. We all were. He was bipolar, and he wasn’t medicated.” 

Zoey watched her carefully as she spoke.

“Bipolar isn’t like people think. It’s not mood swings - it’s a hundred times worse. He would be so nice and happy for a couple months, and just when I was starting to trust him again, it was like a switch would flip. All of a sudden, my nice dad was gone. He would yell at us and leave for weeks at a time and hit my mom and stuff. That lasted for months, too.”

Zoey couldn’t help the worried expression that crossed her face. 

Sky just gave her hand a squeeze and continued. “It’s better now that he’s dead. I don’t have to be scared of him. But the best part is that I don’t have to talk about him anymore. Like, if people ask me how he’s doing, I don’t have to lie and tell them he’s great. It’s awful pretending to like someone you can’t stand. Now all I have to say is that he’s dead. People don’t really ask many questions after that.” 

“How did he die?” Zoey asked.

“Cancer.”

“Wow.” 

“Yeah. I’m kind of glad he suffered.” 

“I feel that way about my dad, too,” Zoey admitted. She quickly added, “I mean, it’s different, obviously. But I’m glad he was scared when I was in the hospital. That’s the only way I really know he…” 

“Cares,” Sky finished. “I get that. I still don’t know if my dad ever really cared about me or not.” 

“I’m sure he did,” Zoey said softly. 

Sky snorted. “Maybe.” 

The conversation slowed to a close, and the only sounds were the ocean and the people buzzing on the beach. There was a volleyball game going on with a bunch of middle school girls; their families and friends were cheering them on. Zoey looked on jealously and wished she had grown up with something like that. Although Jay had been a cheering section all by himself, she supposed. He had been enough then.

She let her eyes drift to where all the little sand pipers were scuttling around as frantically as though the ground was on fire. A large pelican flew overhead. Zoey spotted a dolphin fin several yards offshore, and she was about to point it out to her friend when Sky suddenly asked, “Did Alvey ever hit you?” It wasn’t a pointed question; just pure curiosity.

Zoey watched the fin go back under the surface. She tried to guess where it would reappear. “Um. No. Not me, no. Jay, yeah. All the fucking time. And [he hit Nate once](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6242407/chapters/16793293). It was… awful.” She let go of Sky’s hand to scratch at the stitches in her arm. 

“Careful,” Sky warned softly, watching her.

“I think since I grew up watching Jay get hit for stupid shit, I thought it was normal. We moved out, and we didn’t see my dad as much after that, so we were safer. Jay kept us safer. My dad didn't hit Nate til I was in high school. It was one of the only times I’ve ever seen Nate cry.” 

The dolphin resurfaced, and a small puff of water from its blowhole accompanied its dorsal fin. Zoey silently wondered where the rest of its pod was; it seemed to be on its own.

Sky sighed. “Zee, this is depressing.” 

Zoey laughed, looking away from the ocean and down at the concrete under the picnic table. “Yeah, I guess it is. Sorry. I just got out of the fucking psych ward, where all we do is talk about depressing shit and commiserate.”

Sky smiled. “Oh man, I remember that.”

“What were you in for?” Zoey pressed. “You can tell me.”

Sky shook her head, trying to fake her smile. “No, you don’t want to know.”

“I do.”

“Well, too bad.”

Zoey nudged Sky with her shoulder and climbed up so she was sitting on the top of the picnic table the way she used to at home. When they were younger, she and Nate used to spend all summer lying on the old picnic table in the yard, tanning, listening to music, and just talking. Well really, Zoey talked. Nate listened and sometimes inserted a sentence here or there. 

“I bet my roommate’s still in there,” Zoey mused, thinking back to UCLA. 

“Yeah, what was her deal again?” 

“She’s anorexic,” Zoey sighed, shaking her head, “but she wants everyone to know it. I know we’re not supposed to think that people fake that stuff for attention, but I swear to fucking god, if anyone’s doing it, it’s Emily. I mean, she’d been in there for a fucking week when I got discharged. We’re only supposed to be in three days.” 

“Geez,” Sky muttered.

“I know.”  
  
A wave crashed loudly, and Zoey reached for her chocolate milk again to finish off the last of it.

“Tell me something else,” Sky said. 

“Like what?” 

“I don’t know. Anything. Tell me something about Los Angeles. I’m still new, remember?” 

“Yeah. Um… well, the weather’s always good here. We’re in a perpetual drought because of it, but… What else. Uh… Oh. I can’t surf.” 

Sky let out a genuine laugh at that. “Where the fuck did that come from?” she asked. 

Zoey pointed several yards down the beach, and Sky turned to see two girls and two guys paddling surfboards out past the breakers and into the real surf zone.

“I thought everyone that lived here surfed,” Sky confessed.

“Jay can. Used to be really fucking good at it when he was in junior high and early high school. I remember standing in the water with Nate and watching him.”

“What happened?” 

“We moved,” Zoey answered. “Jay went from being our brother to being our dad. I mean, I was three when we moved out. Nate was seven. So.” 

“Whoa.”

“Yeah. That’s why people at the gym joke about him being our dad sometimes. He really is. Not as much to Nate as he is to me, but… Anyway, Nate got caught in a rip current once, and after that, Jay wouldn’t let us go out there. He was scared something was going to happen again, so I never learned.”

Sky nodded. “Me either.” 

Zoey burst out laughing for real then. “You’re from New Mexico!” she exclaimed. “You’re fucking landlocked!”

Sky smiled widely as she watched Zoey. She put her joint out on the table and prompted, “Tell me something else.”

Zoey thought for a moment. “One time, I…” She chuckled. “Oh god, I can’t believe I’m gonna fucking tell you this.” 

“Tell me!” 

Zoey started to blush, embarrassed that she already couldn’t stop smiling at the silly memory. “Only because it’s the only thing I can think of,” she said, pointing at Sky like a threat. 

Sky nodded.

“So when I was in second grade, I think, we got an assignment where we were supposed to draw a picture of something we loved, and I-” She started to laugh. “I – oh my god, Sky.”

Sky raised her eyebrows, waiting for her friend to continue.

“I drew the beach, right? And we were supposed to label it. So I drew a picture of me with long, wavy hair holding a beach ball, and I even drew, like, fucking sand dollars and shit. And I wrote…” She covered her face with her hand as she giggled. “I wrote…” 

“You wrote what?!” Sky asked. 

“The bitch!” she cried. 

Sky’s mouth dropped open in a shocked smile. “What?!” she repeated. 

“I wrote ‘Bitch!’” Any semblance of calm Zoey had was gone. She was cracking up. “It said,” she continued, her voice high-pitched from all the laughing, “‘BITCH’ in giant letters at the top, and then because I thought I was really smart, I wrote ‘I love the bitch’ underneath!” 

“Oh my god _,_ I _need_ to see this,” Sky demanded, laughs bubbling out of her as well. 

“Jay still has it, I’m sure. He had [that stupid drawing](https://s28.postimg.org/snrpp2cfx/b_Un_NLht_KBu.jpg) on the fridge for _years._ Said the teacher gave it to him at my parent-teacher conference because she thought it was so funny. I didn’t get in trouble for it or anything. I mean, I was little. It was an honest-to-god mistake, but…” 

“No, that’s _awesome,_ ” Sky insisted. “That’s – you’re so cute.” 

Zoey chuckled. “Thanks.”

“No, I mean it. You’re so cute.”

Zoey squinted at her a little, tilting her head in curiosity.  
  
At that, Sky couldn’t take it anymore. She got quickly to her feet and pressed her lips to Zoey’s.

Zoey stared at her as they kissed, her eyes wide and a little bit crossed as her mouth remained against her friend’s.

After a few seconds, Sky pulled back. At Zoey’s surprised expression, Sky turned white. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” she blurted. “I’m so sorry, I totally crossed the line. I’m-” 

“No, it’s not that,” Zoey interrupted. “It’s not that. I’m just… I didn’t see that coming.”

Sky took a step back and brushed one of Zoey’s waves away from her face. “I really like you,” she confessed. “I don’t know if you’re straight, but I can’t help it. I was so worried about you when you were in the hospital, and I missed you so much, and I mean, I’d always thought you were, like, beautiful. And cool. And you make me so happy. But I missed you so much, and after what happened, I don’t want to ignore this anymore.” 

Zoey had no idea what to do with the information Sky was giving her. All she knew was that it made her feel good. Made her feel _loved._ No one had ever cared about her like this before. She liked it.

“Come here,” Zoey said, drawing Sky’s mouth back to her own. 

Damn the tourists. Damn the fucking homophobes. The sun was out, and Zoey was free and happy and high, and someone with no obligation to even like her had just told her she was beautiful. They saw past her stitches and her fucked up mind.

Sky’s lips were soft, and Zoey could taste the tang of weed mixed with the sweetness from the cherry vanilla protein shake on her tongue. She was sure Sky could taste the chocolate milk in her own mouth. She pulled her knees in a little so that they were pressing into Sky’s hips and keeping her there.

Someone hooted, and Zoey turned to see a tan high school boy grinning at them. Zoey smiled sheepishly, but Sky seemed annoyed. “Let’s get out of here,” she said, taking Zoey by the hand and leaving the cups and joints on the table. Someone else could clean them up.

Within a few minutes of silent walking, Zoey realized they were headed for Sky’s apartment.

“I didn’t realize you were so close to the ocean,” Zoey mused as Sky’s building came into view. “I’ve only come here from the gym or my dad’s house.”

“Yeah. I knew when I came here that I wanted to be close to the water. I’m not from here, so it’s special.”

“It’s always special,” Zoey assured her. “Seems like all my best memories are from the beach.”

“Don't you mean, from the _bitch?_ ” Sky teased, and Zoey laughed.

“Shut the fuck up,” she grinned, bumping into Sky on purpose. 

The apartment felt especially chilly after the workout and their walk in the heat. Zoey shivered a little while Sky peeled her sweaty t-shirt off and pulled on an oversized long sleeve top. Sky passed Zoey a sweatshirt from her high school, and they settled on the couch. Sky rested her arm over the back of the sofa. Zoey didn’t scoot in, but Sky didn’t seem to mind. 

Of course, Zoey dozed off as always, and Sky snapped a few photos on her phone before waking the other girl up and offering to drive her home.

 

* * *

 

 

When Sky dropped Zoey off at Alvey’s, Nate had just gotten there. He was alternating between fucking around under the hood of his car and glancing worriedly up at the storm clouds forming overhead. 

“You’re not at the gym?” Zoey asked after she’d waved goodbye to Sky.

Nate wiped his hands on his shorts. “No. I went to pick up your prescription, and then I had to get a couple things for the gym. Fucking - accounting shit for Lisa.” He whacked at the hood with the back of his hand. “And then this goddamn piece of junk quit on me.”

“How’d you get it home?” Zoey asked.

“I moved some stuff around under here, and it worked.” 

Zoey frowned. “That doesn’t sound safe.”

“Well,” he sighed, “what the fuck else am I gonna do?” He pointed up at the sky. “Just glad I got back before this shit started.”

“Wanna watch a movie?” she asked. 

“Let’s play Forza,” he suggested.

“Oh, you’re on,” she grinned. (Even if she hadn’t wanted to play, she would have. It still killed her that the fucking junkies had stolen his Xbox from the little house. She was glad he had this one, too.) 

Nate slammed the hood back into place and followed his sister in through the sliding glass door. He rinsed his hands off in the sink and grabbed them each a glass of ice water while she set up the video game. When he joined her in the living room, she tossed him his black controller, and she took the white one. He crashed onto the other end of the couch, and Zoey wondered if she should tell him that Sky kissed her. She decided to keep it to herself, at least for the time being. She didn’t want to make things weird. 

"Here," Nate said, sliding an transparent orange bottle out of his pocket. He twisted the cap off and shook out a little green pill.

Zoey leaned over and took it from his hand, popping it into her mouth and quickly downing a gulp of water to wash it down.

"Let me see," he muttered.

"Nate," she shot back, instantly annoyed. 

"Just - fucking humor me, alright?"

She stared at him for a long moment, but she gave in, sighing in frustration. She opened her mouth and wiggled her tongue around so he could see that she hadn't tucked the pill somewhere underneath it or nudged it behind her teeth. He nodded and bumped her shoulder, and things went back to normal pretty easily. 

The siblings turned their focus back to the Xbox and, as always, argued amiably back and forth about which cars were superior to which. Nate paid close attention to the control of them. Zoey just liked the speed.

Once they’d selected their cars and decided on their paint colors, they picked the same track they always raced on together. Zoey could never remember what it was called, but Nate knew, so he could always find it easily in the alphabetical list. That’s why she never tried to convince him to let her be player one. Well, that and the fact that he would never give in anyway. 

Thunder rumbled in the distance, but Nate barely seemed to register it over the loud sound of the revving engines at the digital starting line. The big 3, 2, 1 countdown flashed on the screen, and then the cars were off. Zoey’s sleek red Ferrari shot forward in front of the pack, but Nate was cool and confident behind her, ready for her to crash on the sharp corners that his Nissan GT-R would maneuver with grace.

But then she didn’t crash.

They’d played this track enough for Zoey to grow familiar with the tight corners and the places to be careful. Nate was only half paying attention to his section of the screen because he was so busy watching hers and getting frustrated that he was behind. 

“Fuck,” he muttered as she finished her first lap nearly eight seconds in front of him. 

She stuck her tongue out between her teeth as she smiled. 

Nate had his thumb pressed all the way forward on the gas, but he couldn’t catch up to her. The damn Ferrari was too fast, and she actually remembered what she was supposed to be doing for once. 

“You wanna pause it and start over?” Zoey teased.

Nate just grumbled to himself, making her laugh. 

She won the round and put her controller down as if she were done. But before she could even stand up, Nate was lunging toward her and grabbing her arm to keep her in place. “Rematch,” he demanded.

“I won fair and square,” she replied, acting a little superior.

“I’m out of practice,” Nate lied.

“Bullshit. You’re just mad you lost.” 

“Come on, let’s go again. Best out of three.”

Zoey narrowed her eyes at him. “Fine.”

He kept a poker face as he asked, “Wanna change your car?”

“Nope.” 

He nodded, and they started an identical race – same cars, same track. Again, Zoey surged away in front of him, but Nate was prepared this time, with his GT-R going full speed from the get-go. He started talking smack to her while she was racing, knowing it would probably throw her off. Still, she cleared a sharp turn in the track that he didn’t expect her to, and he leaned forward in frustration. “You’re in trouble now,” he growled.

Thunder clapped several miles away, but Nate didn’t even notice. The sounds of the motors were roaring in the speakers, and his focus was sharp. He was _not_ going to lose to his little sister twice. No fucking way. 

She finally crashed into a wall, and in the few seconds it took her to laugh about it, reposition, and start going again, Nate passed her. 

“No!” she whined, but it was too late. Her fuck-up had been too damaging, and they both knew it. Nate finished the race in first place with ease. Zoey gave him an angry pout, put her controller on the coffee table, and announced that she wanted something to eat. 

“Popcorn,” Nate called to her.

"Okay."

A few moments later, he heard the low hum of the microwave. Zoey stood at the counter making herself a peanut butter sandwich while the kernels started popping above her. 

A loud bang of thunder came from overhead, and Nate jumped off the couch and jogged into the kitchen with wide eyes. Zoey was beside him in an instant. “It’s okay,” she said, resting her right hand on his forearm.

He pursed his lips as she removed the popcorn from the microwave and went to get the glasses of water from the living room. She switched the TV to the acoustic music channel while she was gone. When she came back, she found that Nate had hidden himself on the floor behind the island. She grabbed her sandwich off the counter and sat down next to him without a word. 

She ate and talked, trying to distract him as he stared up at the high windows and the rain spattering the glass. She kicked gently at his bare feet, but he just moved them out of the way, not wanting to play their stupid little kid game when he was so anxious.

After Zoey finished her late lunch, she reached over her head to put the plate on the counter.

Nate could feel himself sweating a little, but he was distracted when she started to absently scratch her stitches. 

“Don’t do that,” he muttered, slapping her hand away. 

“They’re itchy,” she complained. 

“Doesn’t matter. When I had them, you and Jay didn’t let me scratch mine, so you don’t get to scratch yours.”

She huffed, remembering. “Fine.” 

“How long til the fucking storm’s over?” he asked nervously. 

“I don’t know, Nate.”

“Well, can you look it up?” His tone was a little rude, but she let it slide. 

“Yeah. Hang on.” 

She pulled her phone out of her pocket and found a radar. As she looked at the picture on the screen, her mind was filled with a memory from over a year before. “Remember last time it stormed?” she asked softly as she passed him the phone. “It was nighttime. We hid under the stairs?” 

“Yeah.” 

“And I couldn’t talk. I wrote on your hand with my finger.”

Nate nodded.

She leaned closer to him and wrapped an arm around his stomach. “I love you.” 

He shut his eyes. It was the first time he had heard that from his sister since the phone call after he’d won his last fight. “You, too.” He glanced down at her hand on his t-shirt. “Can you move your fingers yet?” 

She sighed. “No. I keep trying, but…” She held up her hand and tried to make a fist again, but still only three fingers made any motion. 

“Why did that happen?” 

“I cut through a ‘flexor tendon,’” she recited. “Apparently it’s supposed to heal itself, but it still hasn’t.” 

“Well, it’s only been like a week.” 

“Yeah.” She sighed. “We had to talk in group about-” 

Lightning flashed, and they sat silently as Zoey stroked the back of Nate’s forearm with her thumb while he waited tensely for the thunder to sound. Once it passed, he said tightly, “Group. Talking in group.”

“Oh, yeah. On the day I left, we were supposed to talk about something that happened that we didn’t expect. Something from before the hospital or while we were in it. And I said that I didn’t think my fingers would stop working.”

“What kinds of stuff were other people in for?”

“Drugs. Suicide attempts mostly. My roommate was anorexic.” 

Nate nodded. “Wow.” 

“Yeah. Not really a happy place,” she chuckled. “But everyone was pretty nice, so.” 

Nate’s eyes travelled to her wrist. When he saw her catch him peeking, he quickly turned his gaze away. But she didn’t seem bothered.

“It’s okay,” she told him. “You can look.”

So he did.

It was like a fucking… it looked like fucking surgery gone wrong. The slice had been so thick that he could tell her other skin was pulled tight together under the little black knots. Alvey had once told him that he was held together with duct tape. Well, Zoey was literally held together with thread. 

Nate could tell easily which spot she’d dug into the hardest with the blade. Right over her vein, a few inches above where her arm turned into her hand. He couldn’t imagine how the doctors got her to stop bleeding long enough to sew her back together. There had been so much fucking blood. 

But then she was talking again, distracting him from the nausea she’d felt starting in the pit of his stomach.

“I kind of got used to everyone staring. Every time a nurse changed my bandages, they were like, holy shit. And then they took my bandages off the day I left the psych ward, and _everyone_ wanted to see them. Even the staff.” She laughed quietly as she remembered.

Nate didn’t touch them, but he turned her hand over so he could see the whole line of stitches.

“It’s thirty-five on this one,” she murmured. “Forty-three on the other one.” 

“Seventy-eight,” he muttered.

She nodded. He’d always been quick at mental math. 

“Let me see the other one.” 

“Are you sure? It’s pretty gross.” 

He nodded. 

“Nate…” 

“I need to see.” 

She looked at him for a moment and the nodded, turning slightly and lifting her other arm so he could see. 

It _was_ gross. It was fucking disgusting. The nausea came back full force then, and Zoey pulled her arm back. “I shouldn’t-“

“Did you really want to die?” he interrupted. Thunder rumbled right over the house, but he barely looked up before continuing his question. “A doctor in the ICU said you really wanted to die. Is that true?”

She swallowed. “Nate,” she said again, pleadingly this time. 

“Tell me.”

She looked at his tense jaw and felt his warm fingers underneath the back of her left hand. She nodded. “Yeah, I really wanted to die.” 

He sighed, angry. Bothered. Afraid. Disgusted.

“But,” she said. 

He looked back at her.

She looked embarrassed. “I’m glad that I didn’t.”

He nodded, and there was quiet for several seconds. The rain had grown louder, the mark that they were under the worst of the storm. Lightning. Thunder. Lightning. Thunder. Rain, rain, rain, rain, rain. 

Nate finally spoke. “Yeah. Yeah, me, too.” 

The power went out, making them both jump. A loud screech filled the air for a moment, and then silence fell again inside the house. Nate let out a shaky breath. 

The rain continued to splatter unforgivingly on the roof and the windows, and it ran in a million tiny rivers down the panes of glass. The twins stayed next to each other on the hardwood, the smells of popcorn and peanut butter mingling together in the air. It was hard to believe that it was early in the afternoon; the darkness of the sky made it look like the middle of the night.

The storm seemed to last forever.

 

* * *

 

 

After the thunder and lightning ceased and the sun went down for real, Zoey showered, brushed her teeth, read for a little while, and tucked herself into bed. She was more than half asleep when she heard the swish of her bedroom door being pushed open.

“What?” she groaned softly, not bothering to open her eyes.

“Shh,” came the gentle reply, and she did open her eyes then. She’d know that whisper anywhere. As the door shut again, a sleepy smile crossed her face. 

“Hey,” Jay whispered, coming toward her and sinking down on the bed. His shoes were already off, and he was wearing comfortable clothes. It almost seemed like he was – was he going to spend the night at Dad’s? 

She didn’t say anything, but when he laid down next to her and lifted the covers over his legs, she let him drape an arm over her shoulders. 

“I missed you,” he said softly. 

She tilted her forehead forward to meet his. “I missed you more.”

He didn’t counter her like he used to when they were younger, and she did feel a twinge of pain at that, but she was too glad to have him back in her room to get upset.

“Where’s Ava?” she asked. 

Jay shook his head. “Doesn’t matter.” 

“Did you get in a fight?” she asked as she started to trace the rings of his tattoo. 

“No, Zee. I just wanted to see you.”

She looked at him skeptically.

“I can’t fucking miss my little sister?” he asked, his soft murmuring turning dramatic. He reached down tickle her stomach. “I can’t miss my little sister? Huh?” 

She giggled and squirmed, whacking his hand away. “Okay, okay!” 

He pulled her into his chest, his chuckles rumbling under her ear. Even though she couldn’t see her brother’s face, she could still sense him smiling. The room was quiet, and Zoey could hear her brother's heart beating behind his ribcage. Jay could feel the little puffs of Zoey’s warm breath against his tank top. He kissed the top of her head, remembering when it used to be all baby breath and Johnson and Johnson's honey shampoo every night.

“Nate said you have seventy-eight stitches.” 

“Can we not talk about that?”

“Why?”

“Cause I don’t know when you’ll come back, and I just want to be with you right now. I don’t want to think about the bad stuff.”

“Zee…” 

“I don’t.”

“You know I’m always here.” 

“You’re not,” she countered. Neither of them spoke.

The warmth of the blankets combined with her brother’s body heat lulled her back to sleep faster than she could have imagined.

When she woke up three hours later, he was gone.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some brief notes -
> 
> thanks to yall who commented and dropped some kudos in the last day or so. makes me feel a little better.  
> i hit a weird patch in the last two weeks where i've sort of lost confidence in myself and what i do, which is what made me not post last week. but i'm glad yall are still here. thanks. this fic hit 100k and the series hit 300k today all because of you.
> 
> i also blocked out everything from g&g onto a physical paper calendar so i could see it written down, and there were a couple time errors going from ~ch4 onward. nothing too big, but there were a few changes, so if you're picky about that, it's been fixed. 
> 
> and finally something good: i'l be road-tripping to see dnce tomorrow (1/31) in nashville, so if you're gonna be there please let me know. i'd love to see yall in person. ive been doing okay, but i really feel like i deserve this night tomorrow, so hopefully it's a lot of fun. this will be my 5th time seeing dnce in 15 months. it's just as insane as it sounds.
> 
> happy reading. love you guys.

Zoey woke fully the next morning to the sound of Alvey and Nate’s voices in the hallway. She could hear them, but she was still too tired to care about trying to process what they were saying. After a bit of time spent talking, the pair outside her door headed downstairs.

Zoey was annoyed; she could have slept for at least another half hour before she would have woken up naturally, but of course, after the noise, she couldn’t fall back to sleep. She sat up on her elbow and ran her fingers through her wavy hair. 

She needed to shower. She needed to eat something.

As she sat up in bed and let her feet slide to the carpet, she remembered the day before, when Sky had kissed her by the ocean. She remembered the effortlessness of their conversation, something that was rare for Zoey to find outside of her brothers. She remembered the way she’d felt so happy with her new friend and the way she hadn't seen the kiss coming at all. She remembered that she didn't mind trading some physical affection for feeling loved and appreciated. 

She got up and went into the bathroom. It was the first time since she got home two days before that she’d let herself back to the space where she tried to end her life. She had been using the one in the hallway - the one that Nate and Jay had shared when they all lived at the big house - so she wouldn’t have to look at all the blood, but surprisingly, most of it had been mopped up. Zoey tried not to think about which member of her family, chosen or biological, had decided to clean the floor. She hoped that the blood hadn’t looked as bad as she thought it might have. The floor and her skin had been covered in it - she could remember that much. 

The shower looked normal, at least, and she was in and out fairly quickly. It was nice to finally shave her legs again. She was surprised that she could, though; she thought for sure that Nate would have taken the razor out of her bathroom, but he hadn’t. She wondered if he trusted her more than he was letting on.

She washed her hair and soaped up all over, and pretty soon, she was back into the main part of her room getting dressed. Just as she finished running a comb through her wet hair, a piece of paper slipped under the door. 

Zoey saw it and picked it up, and what was on the other side had her immediately stepping into the hallway. “Where did you get this?” she asked Nate. She was getting such a weird vibe from him. 

“Oh, I, uh. I thought you were still sleeping,” he said awkwardly. “I have to go to the gym. I’m s’posed to-”

“No, Nate, where the fuck did you get this? Why are you giving this to me?” 

He shrugged and averted his eyes. “You need help.”

Zoey pursed her lips. The paper had a list – a _long_ list – of therapists, psychiatrists, and counselors, and several phone numbers and street addresses. “Where did you get it, though? I mean, who put it together?”

“A doctor.”

“A doctor,” she echoed. 

Nate looked like he wanted to disappear into the floor. 

“What?” she pressed.

“A fucking therapist, okay? It’s from a therapist. Fucking Dad’s making me go.”

That shut Zoey up quickly. “Oh.” She looked at the floor, just as embarrassed and upset as her brother. 

Nate shrugged, and Zoey caught it out of the corner of her eye, but neither sibling said anything. Zoey slowly retreated back into her bedroom and closed the door. Nate stood outside in the hall for a moment before he sighed quietly to himself and headed downstairs. 

From her room, Zoey could hear the sound of Nate’s rusty car engine turn over, and she recognized the noise that signaled him backing out of the driveway and pulling down the street. She flopped onto her bed and stared at the list. The longer she looked, the more she realized that she had no intention of contacting any of these people.

 

* * *

 

Zoey didn’t feel like going to the gym, especially after her interaction with Nate, so she left her phone on her bed and headed down to the beach. She put a thin long sleeve cover-up over her bikini, grabbed Abigail, and hopped on her new purple bike. 

She traveled down the few blocks that separated her house from the ocean and locked her bike where she usually locked Nate’s when she borrowed it. She and Abigail were heading to the beach bar where Zoey usually stole her crackers when she was interrupted by a guy’s voice. 

“Hey, Zee! _Zee!_ Hey!”

Zoey turned to see that guy from the last time she’d been out here jogging up to her. What had his name been? Alex?

“Hey,” he said breathlessly. He must have seen the concentration on her face, because he pointed at his chest. “Adam.” 

“Hi.” 

“I haven’t seen you in a while. Where you been?”

She looked at him carefully. “Around.” 

She was ready for him to say something to her about her suicide attempt and how he’d read what Nate said on Sherdog, but he didn’t. Which was… odd. She remembered him being pretty candid.

He motioned behind himself to a couple of guys that were playing with a Frisbee. “Me and my roommates came down here to play Ultimate, and we need a fifth player. Wanna join us?”

Zoey looked at Abigail, who was wagging her tail at Adam. “Me or the dog?” she asked, playing serious.

Adam jumped right in. “Either. But, I mean, the dog’s probably better, right? What’s his name, Tri-pod?”

“It’s a girl.” 

“Eileen,” he said immediately, and Zoey couldn’t help but break her façade and give him a smile.

“It’s Abigail.”

Adam looked disappointed. 

“Hey, I didn’t name her,” Zoey said defensively.

“Well, since her name isn’t something about her three legs, she can’t play. But you can.” 

“Are you sure? I only have two.”

“Yeah, so do the rest of us. And you have two eyes, which means you have better depth perception. There’s your advantage.” 

Zoey smiled and looked over at the guys and a blonde girl who were chatting a few feet away. It had been years since she’d been invited to play _anything_ with people that weren’t from the gym. And besides, she could use some fun. “Alright, you’re on,” she said. 

“Good.” Adam motioned for her to follow him. “This is Jack and Cole; they’re my roommates. And that’s my friend Billie. Guys, this is Zee. She goes to Navy Street.” At their blank looks, he explained. “You know, that MMA gym I train at.”  
  
“Ohh. Hey, mama,” Cole greeted, but it wasn’t creepy. He had a single tuft of hair standing up on one side of his head and several weird tattoos, but his smile was genuine. She liked him right away.

“I like your apron,” she told him. It was bright blue, and it clashed horribly with his orange parachute pants, but there was something about him that gave her the sense that he was pulling off the look.

He grinned and proudly smoothed his hands over it. “Thanks.”

Billie – a girl! – waved at her, and Jack, who had long, shoulder-length brown hair and kind, bright eyes, stuck his hand out. “Nice to meet you.” 

Zoey was careful that her sleeve didn’t ride up her arm as she shook it. “You, too.”

“Alright!” Adam called to a guy he hadn’t introduced Zoey too. “You ready? We got a full team.” 

“Us, too,” the guy replied. “Cole, you wanna start?” 

“Ugh, fine,” Cole complained dramatically, but he winked at Zoey, and she knew then that he was just playing. 

Before long, it became clear that both teams absolutely sucked at the game, but there was so much laughter and shouting that Zoey was still having a blast. Abigail ran back and forth with the players, barking excitedly as the frisbee sailed across the beach. 

Zoey and a girl from the other team smacked into each other and both hit the ground hard, but they scrambled back up, helping each other to their feet, brushing the sand off, and getting back in the game. Zoey caught Adam smiling at her after that, and she felt her cheeks grow a little pink. 

Cole was really good at leaping around and diving, Jack had long legs and could run super fast, and Adam was blessed with a steady, precise arm. Billie had a quick eye for anticipating what the other team was going to do with the frisbee, and Zoey was just impressed with her own ability to keep up. She hadn’t played Ultimate for so long that she was a little rusty on the rules, but the more she played, the more came back to her. She even managed to throw the disc to Jack, which let them score. Cole picked her up and spun her in a circle. Other than that, though, she was pretty bad. 

Thirty or forty minutes later, Adam’s team of misfit college kids (and Zoey) defeated the other team of… also misfit college kids? Zoey didn’t really know who she was looking at. But it seemed that Adam and the captain of the other team were friendly in their rivalry, because they hugged each other when it was over.

“See you in Ethical Theory!” the guy called as he and his girlfriend (the girl Zoey had knocked into) jogged away. 

"Bye, dude!" Adam gave him a big wave.

Jack and Cole told Adam that they were going to head back to the dorm, and Billie took a phone call and had to excuse herself. That left Adam and Zee. Zoey walked with him up to the beach bar, and she watched as Adam grinned at the guy behind the counter. “Hey, man.”

“Wassup, Danger?” the guy said, reaching his fist over the bar for Adam to bump. 

“Nothin’ much. We just beat the crap out of Josh’s Ultimate team. Pwned!” 

The guy laughed. “Nice. Where’s Lawless at?”

“Went back to the dorm.”

“Ah. Give him a shout for me.”

“Yeah, I will, man.”

“Well, what can I get for you?” 

“Can I get two waters?” Adam asked.

“Oh, no,” Zoey started to protest, but Adam looked at her curiously, like he didn’t understand why she’d say no. It was hot, and he knew she had to be thirsty after all that running around. He didn’t speak, but something about his expression made Zoey decide to fall quiet. She wondered what his story was. He caught her eyes ghosting over his tan biceps, and she quickly looked away, a little embarrassed. 

He chuckled and handed her a huge cup of ice water, which she knew was going to be outrageously overpriced. “Got a while? I could use some company.”

She nodded and then sipped at the cold drink. “Thank you.” 

“No problem.” 

Adam paid – Zoey tried not to let her eyes widen at the price – and Abigail trotted happily after the pair as they walked down to the shore and sat down in the wet sand. Abigail settled between Adam and Zoey for scratches behind the ears. Adam took to the dog quickly, playing with her lone front paw and getting her to growl playfully.

The waves flew up to Adam and Zoey’s feet, and Zoey splashed a bit of the water over her calves to help cool off before it was sucked back down the sand. The August sun was fucking brutal. 

“Ethical Theory?” Zoey asked Adam. She didn’t really know what to talk to him about. They’d barely even met before this.

He huffed. “Josh is gonna be in my class. It’s for my minor, but I think he’s just taking it for fun. Or maybe to mess with me during class.” 

“What’s your minor in?” 

“Philosophy.” 

Zoey raised her eyebrows a little. “Cool.”

“Yeah, it’s… it’s not really what I was expecting, but I still like it.”

“Are you, like, really smart?” she asked bluntly. 

He smiled at her. “I don’t think so. I think I’m comparable to most people.”

Zoey looked at him skeptically. “I don’t think ‘most people’ would choose to learn about philosophy all day.”

“It’s not all day,” Adam smiled, looking out at the horizon as he drank another sip of water. “It’s just, like, three or four times a week.”

“Oh, right,” Zoey replied sarcastically, and they both softly laughed.

“No, but it’s – it’s just a personal preference. Like, what do you like?”

Zoey shrugged.

“Oh, come on. What do you like? Everybody likes _something_.” 

“I guess… I guess I like reading.”

“See, there you go. And I could never be an English major.”

“So why philosophy and not English?” she asked curiously.

“They’re two different worlds.”

“In what way? Seem like they’d be pretty fucking similar to me.” 

Adam huffed a laugh and shook his head. “No way. English is stuff that’s concrete, right? Like, you can pick up a book and read it. Or you can write down the words in your mind. But philosophy… it’s all ideas. And there’s no right and wrong like there is with grammar or syntax.” 

Zoey couldn’t believe this guy had just used the word ‘syntax’ in a casual conversation.

“You can study philosophy forever and still know pretty much nothing. It’s… it’s old, and it’s new, and it’s very complicated.”

Zoey stared at him for a moment. She was pretty sure that a literary major would have a lot of the same qualities despite his dispute. She went for another blunt question. “Are you one of those elitist guys that thinks you’re better than everyone cause you study something you think is really cool and you work out a lot?”

Adam laughed sincerely then. “I hope not.”

That made Zoey like him. She hadn’t been sure before, but the smile was enough.

“Are you in a fraternity?”

He laughed again. “Oh, god, no. No. GDI right here.”

She looked at him curiously. “Goddamn independent,” he explained.

She rolled her eyes. 

“Are you in school?” he inquired. He didn’t seem bothered that she didn’t like his joke. 

“No.” 

“Why not?”

She shrugged. “I graduated from high school, but there was just… it didn’t seem like the path I was going down.” 

“No, I get that,” Adam nodded. “I didn’t really wanna go to school either, but in my family, you’re basically disowned if you don’t, so.” 

Zoey couldn’t imagine going to USC and not really wanting to be there, what with their forty thousand dollar tuition and all. It was probably closer to fifty now, plus room and board, food, books… Zoey didn’t even want to think about how rich Adam and his family must have been. But luckily, she didn’t have to. 

Abigail started snapping at the bubbles that drifted up to her, and before Zoey could stop her, the three-legged dog had sprung to her feet and jumped into the ocean.

“Abby, no!” Zoey cried, leaping up and going after her, upsetting her cup of water in the process. 

Adam grabbed the cup and set it right, brushing off the sand that stuck to the liquid condensing on the outside. He smiled as he watched Zoey drag Abigail out of the ocean. The dog, of course, shook off, spraying everything within a ten-foot radius with seawater. 

Zoey squeezed her eyes shut, held a hand up over her face, and waited for Abby to stop moving. Adam laughed freely and long.

“That fucking dog,” Zoey sighed as she returned to her seat. 

“She’s great,” Adam insisted.

“I know. She’s just... she’s still kinda new at my house, and I’m still learning all her quirks and stuff. I didn’t see that coming at _all._ ”

“I thought she looked kinda… old.”

Zoey nodded.

“No offense,” Adam added quickly.

“No, she is,” Zoey replied. “My-” she started, but she cut herself off. She didn’t want Adam to know who she was related to. “I got her at the shelter a couple weeks ago.”

Abigail slurped a wet stripe up Adam’s cheek, and he leaned in with puckered lips for another lick. “So sweet,” he praised, rubbing her wet coat with rough hands. Abby leaned closer. She seemed to beam.

“So, if you’re a philosophy minor, what’s your major?” Zoey asked.

“Well, it’s… it’s a little weird.”

“What is it, sex studies? My brother said that’s what he’d be if he went to college.” 

Adam shook his head. “No, although I’m pretty sure we have that. Mine is ‘Arts, Technology, and the Business of Innovation’ with a focus in audio development and venture management.”

Zoey blinked at him. “Holy shit.”

Adam nodded. “I know, it’s…” 

“It’s a fucking mouthful,” Zoey supplied. 

“Are you always this straightforward?” Adam asked, a small smile on his lips.

“No. Just depends.” 

“On what?” 

Zoey smiled emptily and looked away.

“Oh, okay,” Adam smiled, sitting back a little to get a better look at her. “So what, you’re gonna verbally beat me up and then get all shy and mysterious when I ask you _one_ question?” 

“I’m not verbally beating you up!”

“Maybe, maybe not. But tell me something about you. All I know is that you had a bad day last week and that you look way happier today. And you have this dog, Abigail. And apparently a brother.” 

“Well… I don’t know. I like reading, I said that. And I like movies and stuff. I like kids.” 

“Kids?” he asks, and she could tell that he wasn't criticizing her but asking her to elaborate. 

“Yeah. I used to – I used to work at a shelter for runaways. Little kids and teenagers. I’m pretty sure that was the best thing I ever did.”

“Why?”

She shrugged. “It gave me a sense of purpose, I guess.” 

He nodded. “You need to find that again.” 

“Find what? The shelter?”

“No, the purpose. Find what gives you purpose.”

They chatted for a few more minutes, mostly about Abigail and how Adam’s semester would be starting in a few days. Zoey excused herself after a while with some excuse about having to feed Abigail. 

Adam didn’t seem to catch the lie.

She’d enjoyed talking with him, but she couldn’t make a new friend right then. Her life was too fucked up. And she needed Nate to give her medicine to her before she forgot. 

Adam seemed a little disappointed that Zoey was leaving, and little did she know that as she walked away, he was kicking himself for not asking for her number.

 

* * *

 

 

Nate slammed his hand into the steering wheel. This fucking car wouldn’t start _again_. That was twice in three days. 

He’d been leaving the liquor store that afternoon with a whole bunch of vodka and beer, and all he’d wanted was to drive the two miles back to Dad’s. But that wasn’t fucking happening, because he couldn’t get the goddamn engine to turn over.

He angrily wrenched the car door open and stalked around the front to the engine. The hood was easy to undo, at least – that was one of the few blessings with this car. Nate propped it up, shoved his sleeves back, and dove in, trying to remember what he’d done last time to get it to kick back into gear.

After a moment or so, a man with a gray beard and a blue baseball cap exited the store. He was quiet enough that Nate didn't notice him as he stood several feet behind the boy and watched carefully. He took a few steps to the side as he watched Nate swipe the back of his arm across the sweat on his forehead and lean back down under the hood.

Nate worked a moment more and then went around to the driver’s side door, which he’d left open. He turned the key in the ignition again and exhaled heavily as the car sputtered to life.

The bearded man approached Nate. “Son?”

Nate turned, just barely managing to keep himself from jumping.

“I don’t mean to trouble ya, but, uh. You wouldn’t happen to be a mechanic?” 

Nate shook his head. 

The man raised an eyebrow. “You sure? Ya got the muscle, and I just saw ya turn that bucket of bolts on with yer bare hands.” 

“I just moved some stuff around,” Nate dismissed softly. He’d had no idea what the fuck he was doing. It just magically seemed to work out. 

The man reached into his pocket and dug out a brown, leather wallet. “Well, it just so happens that I’m in the business of rusty automobiles just like the one ya got right here. If yer ever lookin for a job, you drop by or call me.” The sentence was punctuated with the guy holding out a business card. 

Nate looked at the name of the man and the title of the business, neither of which he’d heard before. “Oh, uh. Thanks.”

“Can’t do too much. Part-time is all, but I could use the help, and if ya could use some extra cash, you just let me know, son.”

Nate nodded. “Thank you, sir.”

“Bobby,” the guy corrected.

“Bobby,” Nate echoed. The name sounded like Bob, but this man certainly wasn’t Bob. Bob was rolling in money, and this guy was definitely working class. Still, there was something about him that drew Nate in.

Bobby stuck his hand out, and Nate looked down at his own black, greasy fingers. Bobby gave Nate a soft grin. “That’s my life, boy.” 

Nate reached out to shake the man’s hand. 

 

* * *

 

Zoey had alcohol on her breath when she opened the sauna door and sat down next to Sky. 

“Hey,” Sky said as she stared at Zoey who wasn’t speaking, but stripping off her shirt. “What’s up?” 

Zoey stood up and shimmied her athletic shorts off so that she was left in a pair of plain back underwear. Her scars were showing, but Sky barely glanced at them before she looked back up at the youngest Kulina.

“What’s going on?” 

Zoey sat down on Sky’s lap and leaned forward for a slow kiss. “Nothing.”

Sky ran a nail across the skin under her own bottom lip. “That didn’t seem like nothing.” 

Zoey shrugged. “Weird day. Wanted to come see you.” 

Sky smirked. “What, did you miss me or something?” 

“Maybe a little.” Zoey had missed her a bit, but she mostly missed the way Sky made her feel. She climbed off the other girl and laid down with her head in Sky's lap.  She drew her knees up and prompted, “Tell me a story."

“About what?”

Zoey closed her eyes. “I don’t know. Anything.” 

“Okay… um… Anything?” 

“Yeah, fucking anything.”

Sky ran her fingers through Zoey’s hair. It hadn’t beaded up with sweat yet, but it would any moment. “Well… I lost my first fight.”

Zoey opened her eyes. “Really?” 

“Yeah. It wasn’t a fair fight. I know that’s no excuse, but this girl had already been fighting for two years when I started.” 

“How old were you?”

Sky thought for a few seconds. “Fifteen? Sixteen? I don’t know. Fifteen or sixteen. Anyway-”

Before she could continue, the sauna door swung open to reveal Nate standing there. He tilted his head at his sister, silently telling her to walk with him. 

“Sorry,” she said ruefully to Sky, grabbing her shirt and shorts off the bench. “I’ll see you later?” 

Sky gave a little wave and a half-hearted attempt at a smile. 

“What?” Zoey demanded as Nate pulled her along. She hopped next to him, sticking one foot through her shorts and then the other and tugging them around her hips. After she shook some of the wrinkles out of her shirt, she wiggled her arms through and yanked it down. Nate still hadn't replied to her question, though. They had gone all the way through the men’s locker room, through the main part of the gym, past the front desk, and through the glass doors, and they were still going. "Where are you taking me?"

“Get in,” he ordered, motioning to his car.

She crossed her arms over her chest. “No.”

He stared at his sister. “Are you drunk?”

“No,” she repeated. “I had two beers.”

“Yeah, I can smell it,” he replied, shaking his head. “Just fucking get in.”

“Why?” 

“Because.”

“Because what, because you’re gonna drag me off to some secret goddamn doctor’s appointment? Because it’s an international fucking crisis that I’m taking some time to just chill before trying to get back to fucking therapy? Which I hate?”

“You don’t hate therapy,” Nate reminded dully, “and no, we’re not going to see any doctors. Just please get in the fucking car.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

He sighed, starting to get truly annoyed. “Look, it’s a surprise, okay? Just please get in the car. You’ll like it.” 

She skeptically narrowed her eyes at him.

“I swear.” 

Sensing the fact that her brother was telling the truth, Zoey sighed and dropped her arms. “Fine. But if I don’t like it, you’re taking me home.”

Nate put his hands up. “Fine.” He opened the passenger door for her, and she slid in. He closed it behind her and went around to the front. 

“I’m tired,” she complained. 

He stared at her arms a beat too long in the car, and something about her tattoo caught his eye. He couldn’t place it. Zoey, naturally, thought that he was staring at her cuts, and she quickly tilted the stitches away from him.

Nate backed out of the parking lot and headed the opposite way from home. Zoey tried not to be interested.

At a stoplight, Nate reached in his glove compartment for the tiny orange bottle and shook out that day’s green pill. Zoey put it on her tongue and, without asking, took a pull of his Vita Coco to wash it down. “You gonna make me show you my mouth again?” she asked bitterly.

He stared unblinkingly through the windshield. “No.” 

They drove about ten more minutes, mostly in silence.

Zoey got a text; “What did your brother want?” It was from Sky.

 

_**Z:** Still not sure. We’re driving somewhere and he won’t say where._

_**S:** Ooh a surprise? _

_**Z:** I don’t know. He doesn’t seem excited or anything. _

_**S:** Let me know when you find out_

 

The car finally pulled into the parking lot of a hotel. Zoey was confused when Nate parked in one of the spaces. “Aren’t they gonna give you a ticket if you don’t have a parking pass?” Zoey inquired. From all the years of MMA, she'd stayed in too many hotels not to know that.

“Better not,” Nate grumbled.  
  
The siblings got out of the car, and Zoey stared up at the tall building. She cupped a hand over her eyes to block out the bright glare from the sun. “Is Jay here or something?”

Nate didn’t reply.

“If you brought me here to see Jay, I’m fucking leaving.” 

Nate turned back around when he didn't hear his sister walking. Zoey was standing perfectly still next to Nate’s car. “It’s not Jay.” 

“Then what the hell are we doing here?”

Nate took two rapid steps toward her and pointed at her with his keys. “You put me through hell,” he hissed quietly. “You don’t get to ask questions today.”

Zoey's face fell. She took a moment to herself before she swallowed and nodded, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. “Okay.” She nodded again. “Yeah, okay. Sorry.”

Nate turned back and led her through the hotel parking lot. No one batted an eye as the pair entered the hotel; everyone probably thought they were boyfriend and girlfriend, as usual. Zoey followed Nate into an elevator that smelled like an indoor pool, and she watched as he wordlessly and immediately pressed a button. Seven. Zoey watched the glowing circle and then moved her eyes up to the green light counting up as the elevator travelled.

“Remember when we used to jump?” Zoey asked softly. 

Nate didn’t respond. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and shot off a quick text message instead. Zoey tried not to be upset.

The elevator dinged, and the silver doors slid slowly open, revealing a hallway with patterned carpeting that would have made the twins dizzy if they’d stared at it long enough. 

Nate walked confidently past the first two rooms, and then the next two, and the next. Zoey thought maybe he was lost, or that maybe he was here to buy drugs or something, when he suddenly stopped. She nearly bumped into him as he tapped two quiet knocks on the third door from the end of the hall.

He backed up a step, and Zoey followed suit. What the fuck was on the other side of that door? Within seconds, Zoey had her answer. 

The door opened to reveal Lisa fucking Prince. Zoey’s mouth dropped open, and she made a sound of desperation as she launched forward and embraced her friend. She was ready to squeeze the breath out of Lisa, but the girl moved slowly, and it made Zoey realize that she should probably be gentle. Zoey was glad she had; Lisa's embrace was feather-soft against her tank top. She was shorter than Zoey remembered her being.

The hug lasted several seconds. It was quiet until Zoey’s eyes filled with tears and she gave a loud sniff. 

“No,” Lisa murmured wrapping one of her hands around the back of Zoey’s head. 

“I missed you,” Zoey said, her voice high as she resisted the tears stinging her eyes. 

“I missed you, too.”

They pulled apart, and Lisa opened the door a little wider, motioning Zoey into the room. Lisa opened an arm for Nate, who went to her side and pressed a quick kiss to her cheek. 

“Thanks for coming,” she told him.

He nodded.

“You’re home!” Zoey exclaimed, still not over the shock of seeing Lisa. “I had no idea! When did you get here?”

“A couple days ago,” Lisa said. Her voice sounded so quiet compared to how it used to be, but Zoey was too elated to get down because of it. 

“Oh my god! Does my dad know?”

“Yes.” 

Zoey looked puzzled. “He does?”

Lisa nodded. “We had lunch.” 

That _did_ get Zoey down. “Oh.” 

“I told him not to tell anyone I was here,” Lisa explained. “Even you and your brothers.”

“But Nate knew.” 

“Yes, Nate knew.”

“How?” She looked to Nate, and he could see the anger in her eyes, but it was Lisa who spoke. 

“He called me when you were in the hospital.”

An awkward quiet filled the hotel room. Neither Kulina knew where to train their eyes, but Lisa was staring straight at Zoey. 

“Oh,” Zoey finally said again. 

“What happened?” Lisa asked her quietly.

“I don’t-” 

“All I heard was that you tried and that you were in a _coma_ ,” she interrupted, her voice growing a little in volume, “and that you weren’t supposed to live.” 

Zoey swallowed.

“Wanna tell me about that?”

“No.”

Lisa shook her head and forced herself to laugh. “You know, I was so fucking worried about you while I was gone. I worried about everything – the gym, your dad, Tanya from the fucking bar – but it was you I was worried about the most. You’d just gotten back, and everything was still so fucked up. But then shit happened with me-” 

Zoey looked to the floor.

“-and I got distracted. I wasn’t thinking about fucking anything anymore. And then Nate called.” 

Zoey closed her eyes. She didn’t want to think about this. She wanted to leave the room, leave the hotel, leave the fucking _state_ again. She should crawl back to Reunited to stay with Ellen and Jo where she was helpful and never bother or burden her family again. But she knew that Nate would never let that happen so long as he had the car keys, so she took a shaky breath and looked back up at Lisa. 

“I’m sorry,” she muttered, trying (and failing) to meet the other girl’s eyes. 

“I don’t care whether you’re sorry or not. I just want to know _why_.” 

Zoey looked to Nate. He knew what she wanted without words, and he left the room. The heavy door swung shut behind him, but he didn’t let it bang into place. Instead, he kept a hand on it until it clicked. 

Zoey collapsed onto the white comforter and sighed. “I don’t fucking know. I just couldn’t do it anymore.”

“Neither can I,” Lisa said quietly, “but I keep doing it anyway. You don’t fucking give up. _You don’t fucking give up._ ” 

Zoey looked at her, this woman she used to despise so easily. The woman who had stepped in and helped her time after time while expecting nothing in return, the woman who her brothers loved magnificently, who Zoey adored and trusted, and who her father had been so desperately in love with. She had been so hurt, and yet here she was, having suffered something so monumental and appearing virtually unscathed. Zoey envied her strength. “You’re braver than me,” she said.

Lisa huffed a laugh. “I don’t fucking know about that.” She took Zoey’s hand. “Let’s not compare fucking battle scars, okay? We’ve both been through… a lot. And we’re both still here.”

Zoey nodded. 

“Nate was really fucking worried about you,” Lisa said, looking at the door Alvey's younger son had just walked through. “I’ve fucking never seen him like that.”

“Have you seen Jay?” Zoey asked, almost interrupting her.

Lisa shook her head. “No, I haven’t.” 

“You need to,” she said. “Please.” 

“Not right now,” Lisa murmured.

“No, you don’t understand. It’s important. He’s so fucked up – he’s with this awful girl, and they’re doing all this stupid, crazy shit. He’s not training, and he fucking passed out at Nate’s last fight-”

“I read that on the message boards,” Lisa muttered.

“-and he won’t listen to fucking _any_ of us, and Ryan said that Nate said that Mac told him that he’s-” 

“Zee.”

Zoey cut herself off. She looked Lisa straight in the eyes and was shocked to see so much pain in them. 

“I just fucking can’t right now. Okay?”

Zoey nodded, remembering the gravity of Lisa’s situation. It was hard for Zoey to think about, so she pushed it out of her mind every chance she got. But for Lisa, that was every fucking moment of every goddamn day. She would never escape it. Zoey leaned forward and hugged her friend. “I love you.”

Lisa sighed and leaned into Zoey. “I love you, too.”

“Are you gonna stay here?” Zoey asked, not sitting up. Her chin was slotted comfortably over Lisa's shoulder, and she didn't want to move.

“I think so,” Lisa replied. “I’m not sure yet, but I think so. I want to.” 

Zoey nodded. “I want you to." She quickly added, "I mean, if that’s what you want.” 

Lisa pulled back and looked at Zoey. “I really missed you.”

The words were such an overwhelming comfort to Zoey. “I really missed you, too.”

 

* * *

  

Zoey texted Nate to come back up after a few more minutes, and the three of them watched the news and talked about stupid stuff like recent fights and whether or not the new Star Wars movie would be crap. Nate and Lisa said it would be. Zoey was too excited about it to have low expectations.

“What do you even eat in this place?” Zoey asked when she heard Lisa’s stomach rumble. 

“Uh…” Lisa shrugged. “Room service, I guess? I ordered a pizza and that lasted me like, two days.”

“You need real food,” Nate said immediately.

Lisa looked surprised, but Zoey knew that Nate was pretty much the same as Jay when it came to food. He always watched what everyone was eating and made sure that they had enough. And that Zoey wasn't just stuffing herself with junk like Jay would allow.

“We can bring something next time we come,” Zoey suggested, and Nate nodded at her. 

“Next time,” Lisa repeated, smiling softly. It didn’t quite reach her eyes, and Nate gauged that she was tired. 

The twins left, Zoey with promises to bring homemade food and good books, and Nate with a strong, protective hug.

For the first night what felt like forever, Lisa didn’t cry herself to sleep.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi. I'm back.
> 
> It feels like forever since I've updated this fic. My personal life has gone a bit sideways, and I just couldn't motivate myself to write G&G. I'm sure some of you have seen the million and five Jonas Brothers fanfics I've posted, but it's cause those are short and sweet. The idea of sitting down and writing a 5k chapter felt completely overwhelming. Which is kind of funny because I've been doing just that pretty much every week for over a year. Depression is funny sometimes. That and I didn't know where to start back up. But screw it, May 31st is three months away, and I'm done waiting for the episodes. I'm jumping into those ideas I've had.
> 
> If you were excited to get your email about this chapter, please thank Dan, who loves exclamation points and read the entire Navy Street Chronicles in four days. Holy cow. Mad props to Dan; he single-handedly got me back in gear and ready to go. Thank you! 
> 
> I love you, my readers, and have missed you so much, and I'm so ready to be back. (I can't promise a chapter this weekend, although *crosses fingers* assuming I recover from this stupid sickness, it seems likely.)
> 
> IF YOU ARE NEW HERE and you haven't checked my author page, I have a million tiny kingdom fanfics. I know most of the ones on this site that aren't mine are in Russian, so if you need some English ones like I do, those are there for you. Most of them have Zee. A few of them don't. Also, if you're into weird Jonas Brothers stuff, which I'm sure you're not, those are there for you, too. Lol.
> 
> And last but not least, I currently have a fever, so please excuse any typos/mistakes/etc. I'm supposed to sing tomorrow, and I can hardly talk, so that's going to be interesting. Happy reading!! Xoxo

When Nate parked his car at the address on Bobby’s business card, the place wasn’t at all what he had been expecting. A crumbling house lay several yards away from a massive lot of old, broken down cars. Nate blinked, confused, but went forward to try to find the source of loud Led Zeppelin music. The closer he got to it, the more clearly he could hear someone enthusiastically singing along with Robert Plant. 

A man probably in his mid-thirties was standing in front of a car with the hood up, but he wasn’t working on it, at least not in the moment Nate caught him. Instead, the guy was rocking out in every sense of the word – singing, dancing, drinking – and Nate watched amusedly for a moment before he knocked lightly against a piece of wood to grab the guy’s attention. 

The man jumped and quickly reached over to turn down the music. “Sorry. Heh. Sorry. What can I do for you?” 

Nate softly cleared his throat. “Uh, I’m Nate. I met… Bobby, and he told me to come by.”

“Ah, are you the kid from the liquor store?”

Nate nodded awkwardly. 

“Nice to meet you, man. I’m Dean.” He stuck out a greasy hand, and Nate shook it, only a little bothered by the black smudges.

“Nate.” 

Dean nodded and jammed a thumb toward the house. “Bobby’s back through there. He’s, uh. He’s in a pretty good mood today, so if he’s doin’ anything weird, just don’t acknowledge it, okay?”

“Kay. Thanks.” Nate tucked his hands into the pockets of his jeans and didn’t look back as Dean turned the music back up. 

“I’m gonna ramble on! Sing my song!” he sang loudly. 

Nate tried not to laugh. The guy was a terrible singer, but at least he was passionate. Nate’s feet crunched on the gravel as he made his way toward the old house. He knocked on the door, and there was a loud, “COMIN’!” from within. When the door swung open, the old man looked pleased. “Hey, kid.” 

“Uh, hey,” Nate replied.

“What can I do fer ya? You come to see about the job?”

“Uh, yeah,” Nate mumbled.

“Great,” Bobby said, “you’re hired.” 

Nate’s eyebrows knitted together. “That’s it?” 

“That’s it.” The man exited the house and walked toward where Dean was standing, still singing, but now back under the hood. He motioned over his shoulder for Nate to follow him. “This here’s Dean.”

Dean waved again, and neither man mentioned the fact that they’d already met.

“He’s here more days than not cause he’s got a damn good work ethic." He dropped his voice and grumbled, "Too good of one, if ya ask me. But I got a coupla other guys who come in when they feel like it and jus’ help out. You come whenever ya want, and I’ll pay ya.”

“I still don’t know that much about cars,” Nate admitted.

“’s fine! We’ll teach ya. Dean here’s real patient.”

Dean snorted. “I dunno about that.” 

“Just pretend he’s Sammy an’ you’ll be fine.”

Dean laughed. “Alright, old man. Whatever you say.” 

Bobby rolled his eyes but didn’t comment. “You wear whatever ya want but make sure ya got sneakers or somethin’ so ya don’t hurt yer feet.”

Nate rubbed the back of his neck as he nodded.

“So, you wanna start now?”

“Like, right now?” Nate asked, eyebrows slightly raised. 

Bobby nodded.

Nate glanced around. It’s not like he had anything else to do… “Alright.”

Bobby shook his hand. “Welcome to the team, son.”

 

* * *

 

Fucking two boys in one morning didn’t sound particularly impressive, but when Zoey considered the fact that she’d had to sneak out of the house and down to the beach without alerting either of her brothers of the fact that she was Up To Something, have sex without showing her scars, and also remember that she’d only ever been with one guy a day, it felt pretty good.

She headed back to the ocean with three hundred dollars in her pocket and sat down by the water. She had barely been there for ten minutes when another man came up to her.

“Excuse me,” he said, and she was about to tell him to fuck off when she detected an accent. 

She cupped a hand over her eyes to block out the sun and looked up at him. “What’s up?” 

“Are you Christina?”

Zoey glared at him sharply. “Who’s asking?”

“I, uh. I got your number from a friend of a friend, and he sent a picture. I was pretty sure it was you.” 

“I’m not working right now,” Zoey said firmly.

The man put his hands up in surrender. “That’s fine. That’s fine, I just wanted to come meet you.”

“That’s weird,” Zoey muttered before she could stop herself. 

The guy laughed. “Well, not really. I work for an agency, the Burns Agency, and my boss is looking for… an escort of sorts. But there wouldn’t be any… intercourse… involved for the time being.” 

“Your boss is looking for an escort,” Zoey repeated.

“Yes.”

“Who wouldn’t have to fuck him.” 

“Yes.” 

“And you’re considering me for the position.”

He nodded. 

“Why? You don’t know me.” 

“I know you’re very beautiful.” 

Zoey swallowed and looked away. 

“That's sort of the top qualification. But I also know that you spent a lot of time with a young man named Carson-”

Zoey’s eyes immediately flicked back to the man.

“-who enjoyed your company very much. He said you were very sociable and kind.”

“How the fuck do you know Carson?”

The man let out a laugh. “You know, if I'm going to hire you, you need to do something about that mouth.”

“What makes you think I’m even interested?” Zoey asked, looking out to the horizon.

“The five thousand dollars you’d be paid to attend each event.” 

Normally in these situations, Zoey would try to play it cool. But five thousand dollars?! Her mouth dropped open. “I’m sorry,” she stuttered, “I think I misheard you. How much?” 

He smiled good-naturedly. “Five thousand dollars.” 

“Per event.” 

“Yes.”

“So if I went to three things with this guy-” 

“It would be fifteen thousand dollars, yes.”

Zoey looked at him skeptically. “That sounds…”

“It’s steep, I know.” The man shook his head. “I can’t believe it myself, how much money changes hands day to day on this job.”

Zoey stared at him.

“Just… have lunch with me, and let me tell you a bit about Bob and what you’d be doing.”

Zoey continued to silently stare, so the guy got out his business card and let her peek into his bag to see a phone, a pocket calendar, and a stack of manila envelopes. “No weapons,” he promised. 

Zoey followed him to the boardwalk but refused to get in his car. She thought he might get angry with her, but he didn’t; instead, he nodded in understanding. “Smart.”

The pair walked to a high-end restaurant that Dad had taken them to for Nate’s birthday once, and Zoey was immediately uncomfortable. “I’m underdressed,” she protested, but he waved her off. The hostess immediately recognized the guy Zoey was with, and the pair was quickly seated at a table even though there were people waiting in the entry. 

“So… what’s your name?” Zoey asked.

“Will.”

“Will,” she repeated. “And how long have you been working for this guy, Will?” 

“Almost two years.”

She leaned closer to him and whispered, “Why the hell does he pay so much?” 

“Honestly, I don’t really know. I reckon it’s because he’s filthy fucking rich.” 

Zoey cast her eyes away and tried not to let her smile show. “Is he nice?” 

Will didn’t answer her, but Zoey could feel his eyes on her.

“What?” she asked, looking up from her menu. 

“Nothing,” he replied, jumping back to reality and shaking his head a little. “Sorry, it’s nothing. You just – your expression reminded me of someone.” 

“Oh. Well, anyway,” Zoey said dismissively, “Is he nice? Do you trust him?”

Will snorted. “Those are two different questions.”

“Then answer them both.” 

“He’s nice if you’re nice to him; you don’t want to get on his bad side. And do I trust him… I suppose I do. Definitely in a business sense. Quite honestly, you have to be more careful with him if he gets personal with you. He’s… Nothing is beneath him.” 

“Okay,” Zoey decided. “Yes. Yes, I’ll do it.”

Will raised his eyebrows. “I just told you ‘nothing is beneath him’ and you’ll do it?”

 “I’ve dealt with worse,” she stated, remembering Clint Walker. 

Will looked her over carefully and then opened his bag. He passed her a yellow envelope. “This is seven thousand dollars,” he murmured.

Her eyes about bugged out of her head. The three hundred stuffed into her pocket suddenly felt wildly insignificant. 

“Take it and get shoes and a dress.” He looked her over. “Personally, I’d recommend something silver or white. He’d prefer you go to Oscar de la Renta at Melrose Place, but if you don’t find anything there, Alexander McQueen is acceptable as well. When you go to Oscar’s, ask for Elise. She knows what Bob likes.”

This was the weirdest conversation Zoey had ever had. She’d always heard that money would change people, and now that she had _seven fucking grand_ in her palm, she understood why. She felt invincible. She could do fucking _anything_.

“Whatever you don’t spend on the clothes is yours to keep,” Will continued, and Zoey was starting to feel something in the pit her stomach. This didn’t seem right. 

“Are you…”

“I know, it sounds insane,” Will sighed. “I know it does. But trust me, Christina, the money is yours.”

“He doesn’t even know me.”

“He’s seen your picture. He feels confident you will… conduct yourself appropriately.”

She looked at him confusedly. 

“He just needs you to stay on his arm and smile,” Will muttered. 

“For five grand,” Zoey repeated. 

“Yes.” 

“And seven more for a dress and a pair of shoes.” 

“Yes. Oh, and make sure you tell Elise you need one of the ‘ready to wear’ dresses. Not a ball gown this week.” 

Zoey put a hand to her forehead and laughed. “ _Not a ball gown this week_ ,” she repeated in disbelief. “This is insane. If he’s a serial killer, can my family keep the money?” 

Will laughed, too. “Well, considering I’ve been his personal assistant for about twenty months, I’m pretty sure I’d know if he was a serial killer. Though yes, if I find you hacked to pieces in a bathtub, I’ll make sure to get the money to your family. I’m sure your mother will be thankful for that.” 

Zoey laughed, brushing off the mom comment. Will was funny, and she liked him. He seemed sweet. Lunch with him was completely painless. She found out that he was from Manchester and that he loved to eat chicken. He missed his dog. He had recently switched from an iPhone to an Android, and he was much happier with the new one, although he knew someone whose Samsung had blown up overnight.

Zoey drank a strawberry lemonade and munched on a chicken salad. She was too hesitant to order actual food (Jay had always told her to order the cheapest thing on the menu if she even _thought_ someone else might try to pay for her), and besides, her stomach was still a bit queasy from the shock of the money and the discomfort of the whole situation. Still, it was the best salad she’d ever had in her whole fucking life. She was sure she'd never been so self-conscious about eating, though, not even when she was eating an ice cream cone after [her first date](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6242407/chapters/16258466). She had never noticed how difficult it was not to get dressing on her lips. 

About forty minutes later, Will paid for her lunch – no surprise there – and walked her back to the spot where he’d found her on the beach. He gave her another one of his business cards and slipped it into her manila envelope ‘just in case.’ He didn’t seem romantically interested in her, but he wanted to make sure she had his number for when they needed to contact each other. 

“May I have a last name for my phone?” he asked. 

She bit her lip and shook her head.

He nodded easily, so it seemed as though he got that answer often. “Alright, no worries.” He held out a hand for her to shake. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Christina.”

She couldn’t help but smile. “You, too.”

“Remember – Oscar de la Renta. Ready to wear dress.”

“Got it,” Zoey nodded. She couldn’t believe he was letting her walk away with seven thousand dollars, but he was. This had easily become the craziest day of her life, but the crazy was just getting started.

 

* * *

  

“Jay!”

The oldest Kulina sibling looked through the mesh of the cage, panting as he walked around after his round with Joe. 

“Come see me in my office when you catch your breath.”

Jay nodded. A few moments and an entire water bottle later, he made his way into Alvey’s office. 

“You look gassed out there, man,” Alvey told him candidly. 

Jay did his best to let the comment roll off his back. He could hear Metallica playing in the background, and he fought the urge to drum his fingers against his leg. “I am concerned... not.”

“I can tell.” Jay sniffed, seemingly disinterested, so Alvey moved on. “Garo needs you to sign those contracts. You still good?” 

“Yeah. Just get me paid the same as Ryan, and we're all good.”

“Well, I talked to Garo, and I actually got you paid more.”

An emotion Alvey couldn’t place flickered across Jay’s face. “That's not what I asked for.”

“Well, that's what you're getting because you're the champ and you deserve it. Hmm?” 

“Mm-hmm,” Jay muttered. 

“You're welcome,” Alvey intoned.  

Jay sniffed again. “Is that it?” 

Alvey sighed and readied himself for the confession. “I'm gonna be coaching Ryan.” 

A beat passed in complete silence.

Jay felt like all the air had been sucked out of the room.

“I'm gonna be in his corner for the fight, too," Alvey continued. "Joe's gonna take care of you. You have full reign of the gym, so long as Ryan's not here. We'll work out some kind of schedule.” 

Jay remained quiet for another moment. “So I've got to work around him?” he asked quietly.

“You're gonna work around each other.”

Jay turned around, staring through Alvey’s windows out to the main part of the gym. The pain was spilling from his brain all the way down his neck, over his shoulders, down his legs to his toes. It was all over, everywhere. Alvey chose Ryan. Alvey chose _Ryan_. 

Part of him was surprised, but most of him wasn’t. Still, he’d hoped… How could Alvey choose _anyone_ over his own son? How could he know that he was choosing to coach someone to go into the octagon and beat Jay? He thought Ryan could beat him. Sure, whatever. They were decently matched. But what was bothering Jay was that if Alvey had chosen to coach Ryan, that meant Alvey wanted Jay to _lose_. 

“This wasn't easy for me,” Alvey babbled. “Whether you like it or not, you're my son and I love you, but you're also a fucking grown man, and I've got to look at you as a fighter. And that's where I have my concerns.”

Jay knew where this was going. He tried to stop listening, but Alvey's words were impossible not to hear. Every sentence was like a lash on his back. 

“You're a fucking head case. I don't know who you're gonna be from one day to the next. Your emotions are off the fucking wall, y-you're getting all fucked up with this broad out there. I don't even know if you want to fight.”

“Yeah... And everything I did this past year and a half, that, uh... didn't prove anything?” he asked, trying not to let his voice waver. 

“It's not about that. It's about now. It's about _now_.” 

Jay nodded absently. 

“Can't count on you, same shit as... as in the past.” He sighed heavily, seeing Jay’s pain in his drooping shoulders. “It's a business decision,” Alvey repeated. He wished he didn't have to feel so fucking guilty. He was making the right choice... wasn't he?

 

 

* * *

 

After lunch with Will, Zoey headed to Alvey’s house. She figured if she had been given a seven thousand dollar shopping spree, she would want to wear her nicest dress to fit in. It wasn’t anything fancy – just some little red thing from a consignment boutique - but it was the best thing she had. She smoothed her hair into a side braid and took an Uber to Melrose Place. (She would have loved to go in jean shorts on her bike, but a quick internet search on Oscar de la Renta had her quickly understanding why Will – Bob – had given her seven grand for an outfit. Shorts and Vans would surely get her kicked out of the store. All her jelly bracelets came off, and she hid her stitches under a soft cardigan. Hopefully no one would be able to tell that it was from H&M.)

The Uber girl dropped her off right outside the store, and Zoey was wide-eyed before she even walked in. She had a purse slung over her shoulder (she hated it, but she knew better to walk into Melrose Place with a manila envelope overflowing with cash) and kitten heels strapped onto her feet. She passed through the gate, concentrating hard on not stumbling on the courtyard's brick walkway.

Pretty green ivy decorated the walls of the outside of the salon. Both the building and the walkway were shaded by tall trees, and the farther Zoey got from the road, the more she could detect the sound of running water. It was like she had just stepped into a different world. 

She walked as confidently as she could while feeling like an imposter. _Don’t trip, don’t trip, come on, Zee, just a little further…_  

She made it in the front glass door without falling on her face, so that was a good start. Within a millisecond of her walking in, she was greeted by a perky blonde man who gave her a polite smile. “Hello! What can I assist you with today?” 

“I’m looking for… um. Elaine?”

The man’s brow furrowed. “I’m sorry, miss, but I don’t believe we have an Elaine here,” he said curiously.

“Oh, um. Someone with an E. A friend recommended her,” she explained, thinking quickly.

He looked down his nose at her. “Oh? And which friend might that be?” 

“His - wait, do you know everyone that shops here?” Zoey asked in surprise.

The man began to grow irked. “Yes.” 

“Oh. Well, um, his name is Will.” 

“Will,” he repeated, clearly not believing her. “Does _Will_ have a last name?” 

“Just give me one second,” Zoey begged, forcing a smile. She hurried to dig the business card out of her bag before she could be escorted out of the store. She knew she didn’t belong here, but Will had told her to come. This is where she was supposed to be! She couldn’t get asked to leave before she even started. 

Her fingers found the red card, and she snatched it out and passed it as politely as she could to the man. He took it and produced a pair of reading glasses, which he pushed up the bridge of his nose. Then his face lit up again and his entire demeanor went back to the way it had been a moment before.

“Please forgive me, miss,” the man said breathlessly. “I did not recognize you.” 

“That’s okay,” Zoey smiled. (It wasn't really okay, but she had no idea how anything worked, and she was desperate not to fuck things up.) She admitted, “I’ve never been here before.” 

“Well, let’s get you set up! And I’m sure Mr. Casady sent you in looking for an Elise, yes?” 

“Oh, yeah!”

The man looked at her, his smile a little forced at her casual language. She swallowed and tried to straighten her posture as she walked beside him to the back of the store. (She tried to follow him, but he wouldn’t allow her to walk behind him.) She only wobbled on her high heels twice, and he didn’t seem to notice. He was intent on finding Elise as quickly as he could. Don’t want to keep a high-profile customer waiting, Zoey supposed. Weird. She was the high-profile customer. It was like Pretty Woman but with classical music.

“Elise,” the man sing-songed in a high voice. “I have a young lady here who is waiting to see you!” 

A brunette with red lipstick and a dazzling smile popped out from behind a rack of clothing. She beamed at Zoey as though she were her long-lost daughter. “Oh, it’s wonderful to see you!” she gushed, coming up for a hug. 

The man gently cleared his throat. “This is her first time here.” 

The brunette pulled back, but she kept the attitude and the smile up as though nothing had happened.

“Will Casady sent her here,” he explained, “and of course he recommended she request you.”

“Well, that's because I know what Mr. Burns likes! And _you_ ’ve come to the right place, dear. What’s your name?”

“Z- um, Christina.”

Elise smiled, and Zoey self-consciously tried to tuck her hair behind her ear, forgetting that it was in a braid. She awkwardly ran her hand over it instead as Elise asked, “Now, are we doing evening couture or ready to wear?” 

“Oh, um. He said the ready to wear ones.” 

“And what’s your budget?”

She softly cleared her throat. 

“Don’t be shy,” Elise said warmly, and Zoey felt that she was genuine. It had seemed a little fake at first, all the smiling and bounciness, but Zoey had started to get the sense that this was really Elise’s personality.

“He gave me seven thousand,” she mumbled. 

“And you get to keep the change, right?” Elise winked. 

“Um. Yeah.”

“Alright. Then let’s get you two dresses and some nice shoes, yes? I know just the thing for you.”

Zoey followed her to the dress section where the woman stopped and sized her up with her eyes. “Hmm,” she murmured, reaching up and pulling things off a rack. 

“Oh, not-” Zoey interrupted, pointing at the bright green one the woman had in her hand. 

“Not this one?”

Zoey shyly shook her head no, but Elise didn’t seem bothered.

“Alright!” she chirped. A moment later, she was set with an armful of dresses. She led Zoey to a gorgeous, spacious changing room that was nearly the size of Zoey’s bedroom. 

“Holy shit,” she muttered before she could stop herself.

Elise raised her eyebrows at the language but didn’t comment. She set to work unzipping all the dresses on hangers as Zoey stepped out of her shoes. It was clear that Elise didn’t intend to leave the room, but Zoey couldn’t let this stranger see her arms. This was hardly the place. She fidgeted nervously with the cuff of her cardigan.

God, this was going to be a pain. Every day for _months_ her arms would have to remain hidden. How could she live when her body was a secret? 

“I can do it,” Zoey volunteered when Elise brought her the first dress.

“Oh, no, I’ll help you. Here,” she said brightly, laying the pale yellow dress across a cushiony, champagne colored chair. Before Zoey could blink, the woman was reaching for the back of her cardigan and pulling it down over her shoulders. 

“No,” Zoey blurted, pulling it back towards herself. 

Elise came around to her front, concerned. “Are you alright?” 

Zoey nodded, willing herself not to tear up. “I’m fine. Can I just do it myself?” 

“We have to help,” Elise said.

“If you don’t, I won’t tell anybody. I swear. I’ll-”

“It’s company policy,” she interjected regretfully. “We can’t leave clients alone with the designs. I’ll lose my job.” She gave her a sad smile. “Sweetheart, if you have track marks or cuts or a bad tattoo, I’ve seen it before.”

“…you have?”

“Of course. You think all the people who come in here are perfect? No. Wealth doesn’t buy happiness.” She dropped her voice. “Sometimes I think it brings more misery.” 

Zoey swallowed thickly, took a deep breath, and, with a burst of courage, shed her thin sweater, letting it fall to the floor. She stared at her sewn up forearms in the mirror. She was too afraid to look, but she knew Elise must have been doing the same. 

“Oh, sweetheart,” she breathed, clearly shocked at what Zoey had been hiding under her clothes. "Are you alright?"

Instead of answering, Zoey pulled her lips into a blank smile.

“Well! We’ll get you a nice dress, alright?” Elise promised, trying to tear her eyes away from the grisly scars. “And a pretty jacket to go with it so you won’t have to worry about that. You’ll feel beautiful in no time. Does that sound good?” 

Zoey did smile a little bit then. Elise was like a fucking Disney princess with her kind eyes, her closet full of dresses, and her voice sweet as honey. No wonder Will recommended her. 

Elise unzipped the back of Zoey’s red dress, and the dressing room whirlwind began.

 

* * *

 

Alvey was tidying up his office before he headed out to therapy. It was always funny, the way he ran the gym, went to therapy, and came back as though nothing had happened. It wasn’t a secret, per se, but going to therapy felt like weakness. Alvey understood easily why Nate had been so reluctant to go; god knew that kid hated weakness more than anything else. But for Alvey, it was different. He _needed_ weakness sometimes. It was the only thing that allowed him to see his strength. 

He looked up at a knock on his door.

“Hey, coach! I'm heading out,” Ryan announced. 

“Good work today,” Alvey said distractedly.

“Heard Jay was here,” Ryan muttered, feigning disinterest. 

“He was.”

“You guys talk?”

“We did.” 

“And… is he okay with it?”

Alvey snorted and lazily put his hands on his hips. Ryan had his full attention then. “You give a shit?”

Ryan shrugged and looked away. “Yeah... Yeah, dude. I feel fucking bad about this. I hate that we're even in this fucking position.” 

Alvey stared at Ryan wondering why he felt so guilty. He was the champ. He should be trying to break Jay down, not worrying about his feelings. Although he supposed Ryan and his son had been close for years, and that bond had been precious to the two of them. When Ryan came back from prison, the pair picked up right where they left off – minus most of the cocaine. 

“Yeah?” Alvey sighed. 

“Yeah.”

“Well, he gets it,” Alvey said, shoulders dropping, signaling the end of the conversation.

“Alright,” Ryan nodded. He didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t look too upset either. 

“Alright?” Alvey confirmed.

“Thanks, coach.” 

Alvey watched him leave. “Alright,” he mumbled to himself. He waited until Ryan left the parking lot to get into his truck, and then he headed to that smoothie place that Nate went to sometimes. The kid would get him strawberry banana, and Alvey didn’t have the heart to tell him that he’d prefer the mango. It was the thought that counted, and Nate was past kind. Alvey didn’t want to put him off. 

He walked to the reception desk at Dr. Kramer’s building with his mango smoothie in his hand even though the sign said no food or drink was allowed in. Alvey wasn’t going to let the damn smoothie melt in the hot car, but it didn't matter anyway; no one looked at him long enough to notice.

Pretty soon, he was called in. He held the door for a woman who was exiting, and then he followed Dr. Kramer down the hall.

The doctor shut the office door behind them. “Alvey,” he greeted, looking pointedly at the smoothie. “Haven’t seen you in some time.” 

“Yep.”

“Let’s talk about that. Where have you been?” 

Alvey shrugged.

"Why did you cancel last week's appointment?"

He shrugged again.

“You called me last Saturday and said that Zoey had attempted suicide,” Dr. Kramer prompted. “That’s very significant.” 

Alvey nodded, looking away.

“How is she doing?”

“She’s okay. They let her out of the hospital a couple days ago. Nate pulled together a surprise party for her at the gym.” 

Dr. Kramer smiled and jotted something down. “That’s good to hear.” When he looked back up, Alvey had put the smoothie down and was staring hard at the carpet. “Alvey,” he said carefully, “what are you thinking about?”

Alvey shrugged again, but he wiped the back of his hand under his nose and sniffed.

Dr. Kramer stayed perfectly still. Watching… waiting… Alvey had never done anything even remotely like this before. The man was a fucking stone wall, and yet here he was… 

“I’m not that upset that she did it,” Alvey muttered. “I know I should be… but it's like with the baby. I should have been devastated, but I wasn’t. I'm not now, either. With my daughter it’s not like I didn’t see it coming from a mile away.” 

Dr. Kramer nodded, but he said, "You sounded upset on the phone."

"Well, that's cause Nate was upset."

Dr. Kramer pursed his lips as Alvey continued.

“The thing that’s fucking me up… It’s – well, it’s two things.”

“Alright.”

“The first one is Nate. He found her in her room all-” Alvey motioned wildly with his hands –“slashed up and bloody, and he screamed for me to come upstairs. Like, he really, really screamed. He was fucking scared to death. It was... It was the worst fucking sound I ever heard in my life. And I – every goddamn night, I hear his voice in my head like that, you know? Every time the phone rings, I wonder… I can’t hear that again, doc. I can’t do it. It was fucking… horrifying. I swear to god, I’ve never been so scared.

“And he was a disaster in the hospital. Worse - worse than I expected him to be, and I expected it to be pretty fucking bad. He was covered in her fucking blood, every fucking inch of him, but he wouldn’t change his clothes. He stood outside the door as close as he could get to her and just waited. He didn’t even have a chair. He stood there for four hours or something insane like that.”

“They have a very close bond, yes?” Dr. Kramer remembered. 

“Well, yeah…” 

“And where were you while Nate was standing outside the door?”

“In the waiting room.” 

Dr. Kramer looked puzzled. “You left him by himself?”

“I wasn't – I wasn’t thinking straight.” 

Skeptically, the psychiatrist asked, “If you were there again, what would you do?” 

Alvey sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. “I’d probably go back to the waiting room,” he confessed.

“Why?”

Alvey was quiet a moment. Then he said softly, “It was hard to see my kid like that.” 

“Are you referring to Nate or Zoey?”

“Nate.” 

Dr. Kramer set his pen down and took a slow, careful sip of his coffee. He followed it with a deep breath. 

“Um, there’s more,” Alvey said. 

Dr. Kramer nodded at him to continue.

“So, on the night before Zoey woke up, things were looking really fucking bad. She was, um. She was in a coma-”

“But she’s alright now?” Dr. Kramer interrupted.

“Yes, she’s alright.”

The psychiatrist sat back a little bit. “Good. Sorry, please continue.” 

“So my son Jay – we hadn’t told him anything was going on. Remember I told you Christina kicked him out of the house cause he’s fucking using so much heroin… Well, he’s been staying in a trashy motel with this girl and getting fucked up, and I think Nate didn’t want to deal with the drama of having Jay there. Jay is very… emotional.”  
  
“I remember,” Dr. Kramer nodded. He made another note on his paper.

“But eventually, word got to Jay, and he came down to the hospital. He was yelling in the waiting room, demanding to know where Nate was, and then we all went into the hallway where Nate had been. And Nate, he was sitting in a chair crying. The kid never cries. I haven't seen him cry since he was... maybe three? Shit." He shook his head. "And then Jay went up to him, and he fucking-”

Alvey stopped and bowed his head. He tried not to think about how Nate waited until Jay was within arm’s reach to let himself break. He tried not to think about how tough and silent Nate had been, day after day and night after night. Most of all, he tried not to remember the terrified, shattered look on Nate’s face as Jay embraced him. He looked like a child again. The hug Jay had given Nate was so needed. Alvey wished he could have seen that. He could have helped his son _days_ before, but he was blind. He was so blind. He truly thought Nate had wanted to be by himself so he could sort things out alone. 

“He what?” 

Alvey rubbed at his eyes. “He was just crying and crying and I swear to fucking god, I thought he was gonna make me cry, too.” He sighed. “Jay thinks it happened cause he was sleep deprived. And he was. But it doesn’t matter. If he was feeling like that… why didn’t he say anything?”

“You’ve mentioned before that Nate is very closed off to everyone.” 

“But especially to me. And without his sister, he didn’t have anybody. Fucking anybody. I’ve never seen my kid like that. Not in all these years. Jay was freaked out as fuck, too, so I think Nate’s just never done that before.” He shrugged. “I don’t fucking know. I just can’t stop thinking about it.” 

Having said everything he wanted to on the topic, he fell silent. 

“And what was the second thing?” Dr. Kramer pressed.

Alvey swallowed. 

“When Zoey… She cut her arms. Like, she slit her wrists, but she really went for it. The doctor, um. The doctor said she was genuinely trying to kill herself. She wasn’t just faking it for attention. And… I believe that, I guess. She was pissed when she first woke up.

“Anyway, she had cut her arms, right? Which, fine, I’m over that part. But what’s fucking me up about this is that she did it while I was home. I have no idea how fucking long she sat there bleeding and crying and drinking and whatever the hell else she was doing. I wasn't at work; I was home all day. She wrote fucking suicide notes for me and my boys and Lisa and Ryan. She had to have done it when I was there.”

“Are you wondering why she didn’t come to you?”

Alvey snorted. “No. I wouldn’t have come to me either.” 

Dr. Kramer didn’t look pleased with Alvey’s response, but he didn’t comment. 

“I just think about… if I had known when it happened, would she have gone into the coma? And if Nate didn’t come home when he did, would…” 

“You shouldn’t torture yourself like that. She’s alive.” 

“No, I mean - if Nate hadn’t come home right when he did, he would have found her dead. And I… I couldn’t fucking live with myself if he’d found her and she was gone and I had been home the whole time. He would never forgive me.” 

“So…” Dr. Kramer began, eyebrows raised, “You’re more concerned about Nate’s hypothetical emotional reaction and anger toward you than you are with the fact that your eighteen year old daughter intended to die last Friday?”

Alvey’s mouth opened and quickly closed. Then it opened again, and he closed it again without speaking. He had no idea what the fuck to say. “Goddammit,” he finally whispered.

Dr. Kramer set his pen down. “I am going to stop this session early,” he said, reaching for a white cloth from his side table to clean the lenses of his glasses. “You will not be billed in full.” 

Alvey looked confused, but he didn’t protest. He didn’t want to talk about his kids any more anyway.

“I would like you to think very carefully about what your daughter means to you. I will see you next week.” 

Alvey stood up and walked out to his car. He sat in the passenger seat for a long moment, contemplating the session and then focusing on all the time he spent waiting around at the hospital. He thought and thought until it became too much, which was when he buckled his seatbelt and headed straight for the bar. It was five o'clock somewhere.

 


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick credit to that person from Reddit that posted about their art. (The elephant on Jay's Instagram is from the preschool I really work at. [All the Kulina kids have Instagrams. Sky, too. Just check their followers lists - they're all following each other.] The story about the food is heavily inspired by one I found on Reddit.)  
> Thank yall for reading!! Love you :)

_Ring…_

_Ring…_

_Ring…_

“Hi, thank you for calling the Los Angeles Suicide Prevention Hotline! How may I help you?” 

“Uh, hi… I’m not suicidal but, um.” Sniff. “I read online that I can talk to you guys? I really need… someone.” 

“That’s what we’re here for. What’s going on?” 

Jay bit his lip. He looked at Ava, who was sound asleep under the twisted covers. Then he let his eyes wander over to the dresser where the drugs were. He swallowed the lump in his throat and stared at himself in the tinted bathroom mirror.

The crackly voice entered Jay’s ear. “Are you still there?” 

“Y-you know what, never mind,” he replied awkwardly. 

“It’s alright-”

“No, no. I’m sorry... I’m sorry.” 

Jay hung up the phone and ran a hand over his face. His eyes were sunken, his skin was even more pale than usual, and he had visible track marks on the inside of his arm. No one was going to want to listen to him. He’d dug himself into this hole. It was on Jay and Jay alone get himself out.

 

* * *

 

The previous afternoon, Zoey had had to sneak into Alvey’s house with the dresses and the shoebox, but luckily, he and Nate were nowhere to be found as Zoey tiptoed around. She had rushed up the steps and hung the dresses at the very back of her closet, where she intended to keep them until Will called her someday with an address. But on Friday, the next day, curiosity (and perhaps vanity) got the best of her, and she locked her door and unzipped one of the garment bags. She slipped back into her new, white dress.

Elise was right; it made her look taller and even more beautiful. She wouldn’t have chosen something like this for herself, but after she saw herself in it, she understood why the woman had picked it out. A man would love this. And quietly, Zoey loved it, too.

She turned her forearms toward the mirror. Yes, her Saturn tattoo was still visible and mostly unmarred, but the deep, slightly crooked slices were definitely more noticeable. They screamed for attention against her skin. Zoey swallowed and tucked the stitches against the clean fabric and smoothed her hands over the skirt. She turned slightly to the left and then slightly to the right, and a small smile came across her face.

She was _pretty_.

She let herself enjoy that feeling for a moment longer before she glanced at her phone, wondering how the hell she was going to get away with this job without her family finding out.

 

* * *

 

“Hey, Keith,” Alicia greeted as she crashed into a patio chair.

“I thought you had a fight coming up,” Keith muttered, glancing at her oatmeal and orange juice. 

“I do. You coming?” 

Keith sighed. “I'm sure I will.”

“Cool.”

“But… if you have a fight, how come you're having so much sex?” 

Alicia burst out laughing. “Oh, shit. I'm sorry, dude. Are we being really loud?” 

“Yes. You are.” 

“My bad,” she apologized, still chuckling.

“I thought you weren't supposed to have sex before a fight.”

“Well, it's different for women. See, it gives us testosterone, so that's why... I don't know. I like to fuck as much as possible.” 

Keith stared at her for a long moment. “You are not how a woman should be.” 

Alicia scoffed, but she was interested. Keith was the strangest person she’d ever met, and she was curious to hear his take on things. “Okay. Then tell me, exactly, how a woman should be.” 

“Well,” he replied, sitting up straighter. It had been a long time since someone had asked for his opinion. “Well for one, you should be a little bit more shy and embarrassed about things.” 

Her eyebrows went up. “Oh, really?”

“Yes. And you have way too much sex with Ryan, who barely even likes you, and you have one of the worst mouths of anyone I've ever met. And that includes prison.” 

Alicia snorted. “Fuck you, alright? I like to _fuck_ , Keith,” she grinned. “Do you have a fucking problem with that?” 

“You act like you're on a porno,” he grumbled. 

Ryan came out, pretending like he hadn’t been standing behind the glass door silently chuckling for the last thirty seconds. “Morning, family.”

 

* * *

 

“I need a refill, Mac.” 

Mac made a sour face. He'd been avoiding Jay all afternoon, but the smaller man had caught him in the locker room. “Come on, man.” 

“Just coke and Oxy, man. I'm not shooting anything!”

“Oh, okay, just coke and Oxy?” Mac asked sarcastically. “Yeah, Jay, I'm not doing it.”

“I know, but here's the deal – either you provide me with your delicious, grass-fed, artisanal narcotics, or I have to go out and buy some skanky shit laced with all free manners of radicals and botulism, who knows what.” Sensing that Mac still didn’t believe him, Jay added, “I'm winding down, Mac. I swear to god. And, really, it's more for Ava than it is for me.” 

“Oh, it's for Ava,” Mac repeated. 

“Yeah.” 

“Oh, okay. Alright. “ He looked at Jay, wanting more than anything to say no. He should say no. _He should say no_. But how could he? Jay was right; he’d just get the drugs from somebody else. And what if… Ugh. “Fuck,” he muttered. “Meet me in the parking lot.” 

Jay smiled. “Love,” he intoned.

Mac rolled his eyes and walked away. Jay made him fucking hate dealing drugs.

 

* * *

 

There was a knock at Lisa’s door. She wasn’t expecting anyone, so she thought it was probably Zoey coming back with a book. She raised her eyebrows when she looked through the peephole but opened it anyway. “Hey.” 

“Hi. Bad time?” 

“Uh, no. No. Come on in.” She headed for the mini bar. “Want a drink?”

“Yeah.”

Lisa pulled out one tiny bottle for Alvey and two for herself. She led him to the hotel room table and settled into one of the chairs. He took the other.

“I've been giving what you said a lot of thought, Lis, and... and...” He exhaled sharply. “I need you, you know? I do. The gym doesn't work without you. I- I want you to come back.” 

“What about the twenty five percent?” she asked.

He nodded. “Twenty five percent. You deserve it. I should have seen that earlier.”

She almost smiled. “Thank you.” 

“Yeah.” 

She glanced at him strangely; knowing Alvey, the conversation should have shifted, but it didn’t. He was staring at the alcohol more uncomfortably than she had seen him look in ages.

“There's some other shit we gotta... we gotta deal with.” 

“Like what?”

“You and me.” 

“‘The gym and our relationship are two separate things.’ Those were _your_ words.”

“Yeah, well, I am so fucking full of shit because... it's exactly the same thing,” he sighed. 

“We'll just feel our way around it,” she replied, shrugging it off. “I can't just lie in bed alone and wait for this to go away, cause it's never gonna go away.” 

“Yeah, I know.” 

“So do you want me back in the gym?” 

“I want you back.” 

“So then, what?” she demanded.

Alvey ran a hand through his hair. “I'm seeing someone.” 

Lisa paled. “Who?" 

“You know, the lawyer. Roxanne.”

“Roxanne…” Lisa sang, but her voice was dead.

Alvey nodded, trying not to roll his eyes.

“So, how long has this been...?”

“It's not serious. It's new. It's-” 

“Then why are you telling me?” she interrupted. 

Alvey’s voice went quiet. “Cause I'm not gonna stop seeing her.”

“Yeah, I...” Lisa murmured flatly. “I didn't, uh... Can you leave?”

“No, ah,” he rushed out, “Lis, I didn't know if you were fucking coming back.” 

“Yeah, I know. Can you leave? I just want to be alone.”

“Okay,” he muttered, feeling disappointed and overwhelmingly guilty. “Okay.” 

He went through the hotel door, and just after it slammed shut, he heard the unmistakable sound of glass shattering. He leaned against the wall with his forehead in his hand. 

Fuck.

 

* * *

 

“Do you want some?” Ava muttered. She looked depressed as fuck, and Jay could hardly stand to look at her as she motioned to the cocaine he’d bought her.

“No,” he answered slowly. “Not tonight.” 

“So, I'm just gonna do this alone?” 

“You're not alone. I'm right here with you.” 

Ava snorted at his response, but the hurt was still plain on her face. Her eyeliner was smudged, she hadn’t showered in two days, and she looked… well, she looked miserable. “Do you still like me?” she whispered. 

“Of course I do,” Jay lied. “Why?”

She shrugged emptily. “Just asking.” She did another line and then motioned him toward her from where he was lounging on the bed. “Come over here,” she begged. 

“In a minute.” He shut his eyes. “In a minute.”

 

* * *

 

“Hi,” Alvey said. It was morning, and Roxanne had just woken up. 

“Hey.” 

“Lisa's back in L.A.,” he told her bluntly. “There’s, uh. A few things I haven't told you. Come sit down.” 

Roxanne obliged. She was a bit nervous, but Alvey needed her to know, so she would listen. 

“When we were splitting up, she got pregnant.” 

Roxanne swallowed but didn’t speak. 

“It was an accident. We tried to make it work, but it was done. She went back home to have the baby. About, uh, seven and a half months in, she lost it.”

Her eyes widened. That look of surprise (and mostly pity) that Alvey had grown accustomed to crossed her face. “Oh, my God. That's... That's awful. I'm really sorry.”

Alvey rubbed his hands over his jeans. “Look, this happened right before I met you. You know, I didn't... I didn't know how to tell you this, and it was just too soon. And then it was too late.”

“How is she?” 

Alvey let out a heavy breath. “I don't know. She wants to come back to work, though.” There was a pause, so Alvey added, “I told her about us.”

“What did you say?” 

“I said it was new, and I wasn't gonna stop.” He shrugged. “She wants to come back to the gym as a partner. Twenty five percent.”

“That's what you want?”

He held his hands out in front of him. “I need her. I really do. Place runs better with both of us. I just don't know if she's ready.” 

Roxanne pursed her lips and nodded. "And your daughter?" she asked.

"What about her?"

Roxanne let out a flat laugh. "Well, I mean, the last time I saw her, she was bleeding out on the bathroom floor. I got more information out of your son's post online than I did out of you. So, how is she? I mean, I called an ambulance for her, and it's been two weeks. I want to know what's going on."

Alvey rubbed the back of his neck. "She seems okay."

"Is she in therapy?"

"I don't know," Alvey admitted. "I'm sure Nate is taking care of it."

"Nate is only twenty-two," Roxanne reminded. "You're Zoey's father."

"And she's eighteen."

"Alvey..."

"I was talking about Lisa, not my kids," he said, forcing a smile. 

"Alright," she murmured. "When you're ready, I'm here."

He nodded. "Uh... thanks."

 

* * *

 

Keith spent his morning browsing the hammer aisle of a hardware store. He finally tore himself away, but not without buying one. His stomach was turning the whole time, and he had been sure the cashier would have been able to hear his heart pounding in his chest, but she didn’t seem to think anything of Keith at all.

After that, it was off to the bakery. It was surprisingly busy, although Keith reminded himself that it was a Saturday morning. Lots of birthday parties, he figured. 

“Do you have young children?” he asked the man behind him in line. 

Before the guy could answer, the man behind the counter called, “Next!”

“Hi. Um, I'm here to pick up a cake for Keith Dowdel. That’s Keith spelled with a K. K as in Keith. With a K. 

The guy stared at him. “Uh… Got it,” he muttered, and he disappeared behind the doors into the kitchen. 

Keith turned back to the man behind him. “The reason I ask is because they didn't even know how to make these kinds of cakes when I was a kid,” he scoffed. “Can you believe that? They didn't have the cake technology. But your children are lucky to be living in these times.”

The guy came back from the back of the store. “Keith with a K,” he said, placing the cake on the counter. “Forty-eight ninety-nine.”

Keith picked up his foot and reached into his sock for the cash he’d brought.

The people in line - and the man behind the counter - all looked surprised and a little horrified. Maybe disgusted, too.

Keith was able to read the looks on their faces. “Sorry,” he muttered. “It's a prison thing.”

  

* * *

  

“What are you doing today?” Alvey asked Roxanne as he got dressed. 

“I don't know. I might just go back to sleep.”

“That's a good idea. You should do that. Enjoy your Saturday. I'd invite you to the fight, but it's Lisa's first night back.”

Roxanne let a small smile cross her face. “I will happily not attend,” she declared. 

“How are you feeling about all this?” Alvey inquired. “You want to ask me anything?” 

Roxanne sighed. “What does she think is going on with you two?”

“Well, she knows about us.” 

“No, I know what you _said_ to her, but what does she _want_? Did she come back here just to work in the gym, or is she expecting you to be together?” 

“I really don't know,” Alvey admitted.

“I mean, it's okay if she is. Obviously, I just met you, and you guys have a whole life together, so... I respect that. And if you need space, or you need me to back off, it's fine. You just - you have to tell me.” 

“I don't want you to back off,” he insisted, “okay?” 

“Well, maybe I should.” 

“I don't want you to. What do you want me to say? Hmm? I'm being straight with you. I'm telling you everything here, okay? I do not want this to end. Okay? Now, this woman's been through hell - I got to be very gentle with her.” 

“That's not what I meant. I just... Fuck. Bullshit.”

“What?”

“I feel terrible for her, and... and for you, too. I really do. And I don't want to be... I don't want to be this woman.”

“You didn't do anything wrong.” 

“I'm in her bed!” 

“You're in _my_ house, in _my_ bed. The thing with her and I had been over for a long time. I told you that.” 

“Ah, you don't have to say that.” 

Alvey pointed at her. “I want you to know it.” He finished buckling his belt and said, “I’ve got to run. Don't back off.”

Roxanne chuckled as he leaned down to kiss her.

“I'll see you later.” 

“Bye.”

 

 

* * *

 

That Saturday brought another therapy session for Nate. He felt a bit more comfortable walking into Tami’s office than he had the week before, but he wasn’t sure what kinds of questions she was going to ask him. That placed a bit of dread in the pit of his stomach as well.

When she came out to the waiting room to get him, he smoothed his hands over his shorts and grabbed his water bottle off the floor. He took the same spot on the couch as he had during the previous session. 

Surprisingly, that week’s questions were completely different than the set she’d asked him the week before. This week, she seemed curious about his childhood. And just like the last time, once Nate was given the opportunity to really start talking, he couldn’t seem to stop. 

“I was in, like, this… art show thing, I guess. At the school. I did this [painting of an elephant](https://www.instagram.com/p/BQiNLhqlzJ5/?taken-by=jaykulinamma) in kindergarten, and it tipped people off to the fact that, um. I can… I can draw, I guess. I don’t know. My mom’s really good, so I probably got it from her, but it’s kind of, like… fucking – it’s embarrassing, you know?” 

“Why?”

Nate looked away. “I don’t know.” 

Tami waited for an answer. 

Nate sighed. “Because if I like art it makes me seem _weaker,_ ” he replied, using Dr. Taylor's buzzword from the week before.

“How do you figure?”

“Because. It’s fucking... girly. It’s stupid.” 

“So it’s okay that your mom is a good artist, but it’s not okay for you to be?”

Nate nodded. 

“Interesting,” Tami murmured. She wrote for a few seconds. “What kinds of things would you draw when you were younger?” 

“Um… I don’t really remember. But-" He stopped himself. "Never mind.”

“What?”

Nate shook his head. “’s not important.”

“I’d like to hear it anyway, if it’s okay with you.” 

Nate took a moment to form his thoughts, and then he muttered, “I drew people sometimes. Not people I knew – just, like, people from my books and TV shows and stuff. And if I liked the way they turned out, I would draw food near them so they wouldn’t get hungry and... die.”

Tami raised her eyebrows.

“Yeah, I know. It’s fucking weird. Um, but every once in a while, I’d go back and like, check that they were still on the fucking page.” He snorted at the memory. “And when they still were, I’d feel glad that I gave them a basket of oranges or a sandwich or whatever. I’d feel glad that I…” 

“You made them stay,” Tami said softly.

Nate nodded.

Tami looked at Nate in a way that only Ryan ever looked at him. Nate couldn’t place it, but it felt funny. He cast his eyes down.

He heard Tami sit back in her chair a little bit, and he didn’t look up as she said, “When your mother left… how old were you when you understood that she wasn’t coming back?” 

Oh, shit. He'd never connected the drawings and Mom before. Nate swallowed and picked up his water bottle for the sake of something to do with his hands. “Um…” He squeezed the water bottle and let go. Squeezed… let go. “Jay used to tell us that she went on a ski trip. He was older, so I think after a couple months he just knew. But I was little. I was four. So it was different for me.” 

Tami nodded. She ignored the sticky sounds coming from Nate’s mouth when he spoke. 

“I really believed Jay when he told me that. Dad wouldn’t talk about it, so all I had to go on was Jay and this everlasting vacation in the mountains. And he said it with so much…” Nate waved a hand to the side as he pursed his lips. “He really seemed like he meant it. And I was little, so I just took his word for it. When she didn’t come home for Christmas, I knew that was weird. But when she wasn’t there for Jay’s birthday in January, I could tell something was wrong. My dad made sure Jay had a birthday party; I remember the pictures. But moms are supposed to be at birthday parties, and ours wasn’t. I kind of knew for a while, but I think I was seven when I finally let myself understand that she wasn’t coming back.” 

“How did you feel?” 

Nate bumped the water bottle into his knee. “Um. I don’t know. It sucked. I knew better than to ask Dad about it, so I went to Jay. He told me the truth. And it felt like this emptiness. I guess cause I’d always thought she’d be back, and then to finally get that she wasn’t…” Nate shrugged. “But I mean, that wasn’t the hard part. We'd gotten used to her being gone.” 

“What was the hard part?” 

Nate rubbed a hand over his temple. “Uh. Not letting my sister know.” He took a sip from his water bottle so he wouldn’t have to speak.

And then the water was spilling, and oh god, there was blood on his hands, Zoey’s blood _all over_ his hands. It was red and sticky and thick, and goddammit, he could smell it. It was colder than he remembered, but he could smell it. His breath hitched; he was back in the bathroom with her, and she was bleeding out, and her arms - her fucking arms. They looked horrible, gaping and open, and god, what had happened to the stitches? They sewed her up, but now all the thread was gone and she was bleeding and it wouldn't stop, he couldn't make it stop, she was going to die and it was going to be all Nate's fault, all Nate's fault... The cuts were so fucking thick.

He felt lightheaded, but he couldn’t get the panic in the center of his stomach to recede. Somebody was talking, and it wasn’t Dad, but Nate was breathing too loudly to hear it. He couldn’t think. He couldn’t see straight. He was getting so dizzy…

“ _Nate_ ,” a firm voice said.

Nate blinked and looked up to where Tami was in front of him. 

“Let go,” she murmured, and he obeyed. She took the upside-down water bottle away from him and handed him a box of tissues. “Here. It’s okay.” 

“Sorry,” he gasped. That freaked him out more than wanted to admit, even to himself. “I’m sorry, that’s never…”

“It’s okay,” she repeated. “It’s just water, okay? Nothing else.”

“I thought it was blood,” he whispered. “It felt like her blood.”

“Zoey’s?”

Nate nodded. He still couldn’t catch his breath. 

"Just water," Tami repeated. 

She was placating him, but it helped so much. 

Since he hadn’t done anything with the tissues and she’d cleaned up what she could of the water, Tami reached for the box and pulled several Kleenex out. “Here, dry your hands,” she advised. “It’ll help, I promise.” 

Nate obeyed. 

“I’m so sorry,” he said again after a moment. 

Once a few more minutes had gone by and Nate was calm again, Dr. Taylor started talking to him about flashbacks and asking him a lot of questions about dreams and avoidance and Zoey and how often he thought about what had happened in the bathroom. He didn’t say much. He was glad when she let him go home.

 

* * *

 

“Welcome back!” chirped a high, excited voice.

“Shelby,” Lisa smiled. The two women embraced. Once the moment was over, Lisa dropped her voice and pointed to the dozens and dozens of bouquets littering her space. “What the fuck happened to my office?”

“I wanted to welcome you back!”

“It's a bit much,” Lisa admitted.

Shelby smiled at her knowingly. “Just deal with it for a day, and then I'll clear it all out.”

“Thank you.”

“Okay.”

Shelby should have walked out, but Lisa could tell from her peripheral vision that Shelby was perched on the arm of the couch. Lisa set down the stack of papers she’d been sorting through and said firmly, “Okay, I'm fine. I promise. Thank you for not asking.” 

Shelby nodded. “Okay." She looked straight at Lisa. "Um. I'd like to transition to work for you, if that's cool.” 

“Why? Is Alvey giving you a hard time?”

“He just... doesn't get me.”

Lisa snorted. “Welcome to the club.” She grabbed the biggest, largest, brightest bunch of flowers on her desk and slid them toward Shelby. “Um, will you do me a huge favor and at least bring this one to the front desk or something?” 

“No problem.”

“Thank you.” 

“Hey!” a voice called as Shelby headed out. 

Lisa would know that tone anywhere “Hey,” she replied warmly. God, it was good to see Ryan. Better than ever. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so happy to see him.

“Today's the day!” he grinned, pulling her into a hug. 

“Today's the day.” His bag bumped against her hip, but she didn’t care.

“Welcome back.”

“Thank you.” Lisa looked over at Alicia. “Hi, Alicia,” she intoned.

Alicia gave a light chuckle. “Hey. Sorry about what happened. You okay?” 

“Yeah, I'm good.” 

Alicia motioned toward the kitchen with her thumb. “I'm gonna go make something to eat...” 

“Alright.”

“...chill out for a little bit. Welcome back.” 

“Thank you.”

Lisa watched her leave and then looked pointedly at Ryan. 

“What?”

“You guys, like, carpool now?” she teased.

He laughed. “Yeah, I guess. She... It's just... She's fun. It's just... It's fun for right now.”

“Yeah.” 

“Shut up.”

They both chuckled, but Ryan didn’t walk away. Why was this becoming a theme with every conversation Lisa had? She needed everyone to just leave.

“You okay?” 

“Mm-hmm.” 

“I can't even imagine what you went through.” 

“Yeah, well,” she replied dismissively, “I already went through it, so I don't really want to talk about it.”

“I get it,” he nodded. 

“I'm sorry about your dad.” 

“Well, we don't need to talk about that, either.” 

Lisa put her hands up. “Fair enough.” 

“I'm just glad you're back 'cause Alvey is not... management material.” 

They laughed again.

“I mean, Nate tried, and Zee a little bit too, but… they sucked. I mean, they really, _really_ sucked. All of them.” 

“Yeah, no,” Lisa agreed.

Before they could exchange another sentence, Ryan was moving back toward Lisa for another hug, this one longer and tighter. She closed her eyes as she leaned into him. After a moment, they broke apart. People would be watching.

“Well, if you... if you do want to talk, and, uh... or just grab a drink or whatever, you know, I'm around.” 

Lisa nodded. “Thanks.” 

“Alright. Welcome back.” 

“Thank you.”

 

* * *

 

A car beeped outside Jay’s motel room. He finished up in the bathroom and said to Ava, “That's Nate. I gotta go.” 

“How long can you do this for?” 

“Um, what?” Jay asked distractedly. He was grabbing his bag and his shoes and heading for the door. 

“Hold your hand over a flame,” she said softly. And then, wincing, she hissed, “Ow,” and yanked the lighter away. 

“I can do that for a long time,” Jay admitted. 

“Try it,” Ava prompted, holding out the lighter for him. 

“Babe, I’ve got to go,” he protested. 

“ _Try it,_ ” she insisted. 

Jay sighed and took the lighter from her. He sat down on the couch next to her, just inside the window where Nate was waiting in the car. He beeped the horn again, but Jay ignored him. He watched Ava unblinkingly as she stared at his hand. She looked worse than Zoey ever had, which was the only reason he'd humored her with the fucking fire. He was sure that if he were to look up the ‘miserable’ in the dictionary, there would be a picture of Ava’s face right next to the definition. 

A siren went by in the distance, and somewhere not so far off, a dog was barking. Nate honked again. Still, Jay didn’t move. The flame was right under his hand, much closer than Ava had been holding it underneath hers, and still, his palm barely hurt. 

Nate honked again, and then there was the sound of a car door slamming shut. “Jay, open up,” Nate ordered, pounding hard on the door. 

The dog barked again.

“JAY! It’s me! Come on!” 

Still ignoring Nate, Jay counted to ten before he finally flipped the lighter off. He handed it back to Ava and left without a word.

“You smell like spring break,” Nate complained as they got into the car. 

“It's alcohol, Nathaniel," Jay muttered, shutting him down.

Nate swallowed and tried again. “Want to go for a run in the canyon?”

“No, let's go to the gym.” 

“Ryan's got mornings.” 

“Well, I won't look.” 

Nate sighed. “Jay, why start shit?” He turned the engine over.

“I'm not.”

Nate’s hip-hop music started blaring through the speakers, but the kid kept talking as though he couldn’t even hear it. “Why don't we just go for a run and then go to the gym later like everybody agreed on?” 

“Agreement suspended,” Jay announced. “I'd like to go see Lisa. She's back.” 

Nate sighed and turned to the right out of the parking lot instead of the left. He could argue with Zoey til his face turned blue, but he was such a fucking pushover when it came to his big brother.

 

* * *

 

“Hi, Shelby,” Keith exhaled as he walked up to Navy Street’s front desk. 

“Hey.”

He set a large box on the counter. “This is for Lisa Prince.” 

“Ooh, what is it?”

“It's a cake.” 

She went to open it, but Keith quickly slammed the lid back down. 

“Sorry,” Shelby scoffed sarcastically. 

“Anyway,” Keith authoritatively continued, “what you can do is get me some plates. And I'm thinking forks, knives, probably some napkins. The men here eat like animals, so god knows we need them.” 

Shelby just stared at him. 

“Alicia in?” Alvey asked, not caring about interrupting Keith’s conversation. 

“Uh, she's in the lounge.”

Alvey nodded and headed back that way.

“Are you writing this down?” Keith asked. 

“Go somewhere else,” Shelby snapped.

 

* * *

 

“It's so dope!” Alicia grinned. She had a mirror in her hand and was looking at her hair when Alvey walked in. 

“Looking good.” 

She motioned to the cornrows. “They're cool, right?” 

“You get any sleep?” he asked, ignoring her hair.

“Uh, like six hours.” 

“That's good. Let's move around a little bit.” 

She didn’t stand up. Alvey put his hands on his hips and raised his eyebrows. 

“Um, Lisa's back?” Alicia inquired.

“Yeah.” 

“Is she back for good?”

“Yes.” One look at her face had him asking, “Is that a problem?” 

“It's just... It's just awkward. The vibe is tense.” 

“Oh, you want me to ask her to leave?” he asked sarcastically. 

“Come on, dude. Don't make me sound like a bitch. I have a fight tonight.” 

“Oh, you have a fight, and yet the world continues to spin. Lisa is not your fucking problem, okay? Got nothing to do with you. Don't worry about it.”

“Yeah, I'm trying not to,” Alicia sighed.

“Try harder, okay? Shut the noise out and focus. That's what a professional does. That's what you're gonna do. So, let's prepare the right way. Let's bring home a fucking win. How about that? Yeah? Okay? _Okay?”_

“Okay.” 

“ _Okay_. Thank you. Wrap your hands. Don't call me ‘dude.’”

 

* * *

  

Zoey’s phone buzzed with a text from an unknown number. She bit her lip and slid her thumb across the screen to open it.

 **W** : _Christina,_ _this is Will Casady. We met yesterday._

(As if Zoey could have forgotten.) Then came a second message. 

 **W:** _Bob has asked for you to accompany him to dinner tomorrow night at the Gala. Since it’s short notice, he’s offering you an extra twelve hundred, which would give you sixty-two hundred for the night. Will you be able to make it?_  

Over six thousand dollars? Damn right she could make it. 

 **Z:** _Yes_  

 **W:** _Great! I’ll let Bob know. We’ll send a car. What’s your address?_  

Zoey blinked. No. No, no, no. She didn’t want him coming to her house. Not even Alvey’s house. It was too small. And what if things went downhill? Or these guys wound up being really sketchy? No. She needed somewhere neutral.

**Z:** _Can you have it meet me outside Menotti’s? It’s a coffee shop on Winward Avenue._

**W:** _No problem. I know Menotti’s. Been there many times. Does 5:15 pm work?_  

Zoey glanced at the time. That gave her some time to get over to the gym for a little while to keep up appearances and then change into her ‘ready to wear’ dress from fucking Oscar de la Renta.

Alicia wasn’t supposed to fight until after nine o’clock, so Zoey could probably just wear that dress to the fight if she could make it over there. It’s not like anyone that worked under Garo fucking Kassabian would recognize ‘an Oscar’ as people apparently said.

**Z:** _Sure. Do you know what time it would be over?_

**W:** _There’s no set time but I can have you out by probably eight thirty if you need._

**Z:** _That would be great!_

**W:** _You have a hot date?_

**Z:** _No, just a family thing._

It wasn’t technically a lie. She’d smiled at Will’s comment, but she knew it was too soon to text him an LOL. 

Now she just had to get through the day without getting caught – by anyone.

 


	24. Chapter 24

“Hey, your time is not till later today,” Alvey said sharply as his son walked through the doors of the gym.

“I'm not training. I'm just going to see Lisa,” he replied quietly, heading up to the cage. “I know this is your time. I respect that.”

“Come on, man,” Alvey groaned. “Come on. You're killing me.” 

“10 minutes, man. I swear to god. 10 minutes.” He headed toward the office where Lisa was already coming out the door.

“Hi?” she asked. 

Jay peeled off his sunglasses and stopped a few feet in front of her. He looked her over silently a few seconds and then slowly pulled her into a tight hug. He closed his eyes and pressed a kiss to the side of her head.

 

* * *

  

Zoey biked to the gym and walked in just in time to see Jay throwing his arms around Lisa in front of her office. Nate found her almost immediately, and he bumped purposely into her side to get her attention. 

“Hey,” she said.

“You’re wearing a tank top,” he observed.

“Uh, yeah,” she replied, reaching down and tugging at the hem.

“Haven’t seen you in one of those in ages.” 

She shrugged. “It’s fucking hot.” 

He nodded, trying to catch a better glimpse of her stitches. “Uh, Sky’s here. She’s looking for you.” 

“Oh yeah? Where is she?”

“Upstairs, I think.”

“Okay.” 

“Hey,” Nate called as she started to walk away. “Leave your clothes on,” he told her pointedly.

She flipped him off. 

“I’m fucking serious.”

Just as Zoey started heading up the steps, though, Keith called to the Kulina siblings, asking them to go to the lounge. 

“Why?” Zoey inquired. 

“There’s cake,” Keith explained. 

Zoey immediately bounced away from the stairs and grabbed Nate by the sleeve, dragging him toward the dessert.

 

* * *

 

When Jay and Lisa had pulled apart from their embrace, Lisa motioned Jay to follow her into the office. Once the doors were shut and the blinds were closed, she asked, “Can you please just fucking behave for once?”

Jay collapsed down on the couch. “I always behave. Just not necessarily _well_. And I'm sorry if my presence sends shock waves.”

“Oh, I'm sure you're sorry,” she nodded, the hint of a sarcastic smile on her face as she pulled her legs up onto the sofa. “But, um, if you could just stick to the schedule, that would make my life a lot easier.” 

“I will do that for you.” 

“Thank you.” 

“And in return, I hope that you'll recognize that I am a free-spirited animal, and that schedules stifle me.”

Lisa smiled for real then. “I got it.”

“Okay.” He nodded and then said what he really wanted to. “How you doing?” 

“Better than I was.”

“I don't know how you get out of fucking bed,” he whispered.

She paused, appreciating how candid he was being. Usually, it was just that everyone was ‘so sorry’ and they ‘don’t know what to say.’ But Jay was always blunt, even when it came to tragedy, and to Lisa, that was a welcome change. “Well, I'm stitched together with a lot of good pills, so that helps.”

“Um, any of these pills you're taking... are they the sort of thing that Jay might enjoy?”

“No, you little shit,” she said loudly, kicking at him with one of her feet. 

“If you have a few extras... I'm just saying...”

“ _No._ And actually, I've been hearing some really gnarly crap about you.” 

“Well, those claims are greatly exaggerated,” he airily replied.

“Are you living at a fucking hotel?” she asked blankly. 

“No. I am not living in a hotel.” 

“Then where do you live?”

“I am _staying_ in a hotel.” He held up a finger. “Temporarily.”

“With Alicia's sister.”

“Yeah,” he replied lightly, “she might be there.” 

“Hmm. I hear she's a real piece of work.” 

Jay ignored that comment. “So, where are _you_ living now? Hmm? Miss Independent?”

She cracked a cynical smile. “At a fucking hotel.”

His eyebrows shot up. “What was that?” he asked, cupping a hand around his ear. 

“Don't be a dick.” 

“I'm not. I just... I couldn't hear what you were saying.”

She chuckled and rolled her eyes. “You heard fine.” 

There was a knock on the door. 

Jay continued teasing her. “Since you've been gone, I got a bum right ear. I just couldn't hear.”

“Yeah?” Lisa called over her shoulder, a genuine smile on her face for the first time in months.

Keith popped his head in. "Hi. Um, I'm gathering everyone in the lounge, and I need you to come, too. And you, Jay.”

“Why?”

“I'd rather tell you in the lounge.” 

Jay looked at Lisa when Keith had walked away. “Do I need a hall pass, Principal?”

 

* * *

 

Alicia was thanking Alvey and heading into the lounge as Keith had asked when Lisa caught her ex's attention. “Alvey.” 

“Yeah?” 

“So, uh, I wanted to get that agreement in writing sooner rather than later.” 

“Oh, yeah. Yeah, we'll figure it out.” 

“Well, I don't have an attorney right now, so if you want Roxanne to draft something up, I'm cool with that.” 

“Okay. Yeah. She will. She will. But I think you should get your own attorney.”

“Oh, I will,” Lisa assured him, laughing a little at the suggestion that she wouldn’t. “But, uh, just... let's get that ball rolling.” 

“Gotcha. Let's... We're gonna make it roll,” he affirmed awkwardly. She let out a quiet chuckle, and he cringed at himself. Since when was he not a ladies’ man? God.  

 

* * *

 

 

Zoey pulled Nate all the way into the lounge, where the fighters had gathered. They were waiting for Lisa, Zoey figured, and she glanced around the room in the mean time. There were several guys that she recognized, a few that she didn’t, and one across the room that was making direct eye contact with her.

She blinked when she realized, and then she noticed his smile. She gave him a grin, and she couldn’t help but wave. He waved back. 

“Who the fuck is that?” Nate asked, leaning down to mutter into her ear. 

She ducked her head down to try to shield her smile. “Nobody,” she murmured.

“Uh-huh,” Nate replied sarcastically, but he let it drop, bumping fists with Juan, Josh from his class, and some guy Zoey didn’t know. 

Zoey glanced back up at Adam, who was still watching her, and she gave him another shy smile. She was about to make her way toward him when Sky came up behind her and grabbed one of her hands. 

“Hey, brave girl,” she greeted, smiling widely. “Look at you in a tank top.”

“Oh, yeah,” Zoey replied absently. “Hi.” She couldn’t help but look over at Adam again. He was talking to the guy next to him then, so she let her eyes travel over the cords in his neck and his dark, wavy hair, which was currently dripping with sweat. Damn. “It’s hot,” she said, trying not to smirk at her own choice of words.

“Ugh, I know. I think it’s actually worse than Albuquerque,” Sky responded, oblivious to what Zoey was doing. “And your dad is killing me today. He’s working with Alicia and Ryan like, nonstop, but he’s giving me ‘assignments’ anyway, and he keeps making Joe Daddy check on what I’m doing.”

“Isn’t that good?” Zoey asked, finally tearing her eyes away from Adam and looking at her friend. “I mean, you wanted him to pay attention to you, right?”

Ryan passed behind the Kulinas, giving Zoey’s shoulders a gentle squeeze, kissing the back of her head, and patting twice Nate on the back before he continued making his way to Keith on the other side of the table.

Sky sighed as she watched Ryan walk away. “I _guess._ But I don’t have a fight, so why is he doing this?” 

“He must be interested in you. Or at least think you have some sort of potential. Otherwise, he’d just leave you alone.”

Sky raised her eyebrows, liking the sound of that. “Oh.” 

They weren’t able to talk any more, though, because Lisa and Alvey were making their way in, followed by Jay, who glanced at Zoey and Nate but didn’t go over to see them. Nate must have felt Zoey’s surge of negative feelings, because he glanced down at her and stepped subtly but protectively toward her. He followed her eyes to their brother, and everything made sense. He stepped back to where he'd been a moment before. 

Now that there were several people between his brother and himself, Nate finally let himself get a good look at Jay. He was surprised to see that the older Kulina actually looked okay, not as bad as Nate had been expecting or imagining. There was definitely more color in Jay’s face than there had been when Nate went to talk to him the week before, and he was much closer to sober than he had been in recent memory. 

Before Nate could think much else, Keith was starting to talk. 

“Thank you all for coming in here today. This is a big day for the... the Navy Street. Lisa is back.”

A loud cheer went up in the room. Clapping, yelling, whistling… Alvey glanced around at all the smiling faces. He hadn’t realized that everyone had felt the absence as much as he and his kids had.

“Okay,” Lisa muttered when they didn’t stop, “enough. Enough! Enough, enough, enough.”

When it quieted, Keith continued. “And I speak for myself, I know, when I say that it… has not been fun without you here.” 

“Keith, Keith, just...” Alvey moved his finger in a circle, as if to say, ‘wrap it up.’ Keith was so awkward that he made Alvey squirm. He wanted to end this as quickly as possible. 

“Yeah. Yes, Alvey. Thank you. Lisa, I wanted to offer you this cake.” Keith opened the box, and the room was met with icing that read, “WELCOME BACK LISA” and was covered in several edible, screen-printed pictures of Ryan’s face. 

There was scattered applause and a large wave of laughter as everyone got a look at the decoration. Zoey, who was possibly wearing the widest grin of all, shoved forward, sure to get a picture before the thing was destroyed with plastic knives. 

“So, everybody, dig in," Keith continued, even though no one was listening. He didn't seem to notice. "Um, but just please stay away from the faces for as long as possible. That's a lot of work someone did.”

Five people went in at the same time to start cutting up the cake and putting pieces on plates. Nate took it upon himself to shove them away and start actually cutting one piece at a time, which gave Zoey a chance to tease Ryan (who was taking the whole thing in stride) for a few moments before slipping over to Adam.

“Hey,” she smiled. She kept her arms pressed tightly to her sides. If he hadn’t heard about her yet, she didn’t him to be shocked by her arms.

“Hey. Haven’t seen you here in a while.”

“Uh, no. I’ve been around.” She shrugged. “We must not be crossing paths.” 

“Oh, yeah. Cool, cool…” 

There was a small, awkward pause, and then Josh was passing the two of them each a piece of cake and plastic fork. 

“Thanks!” Zoey grinned. 

“No problem, Zee. I saved you the best Ryan face.” 

Zoey looked down and let out a laugh. “Oh my god,” she giggled, snapping another picture of it.

“How do you know _everyone_? And how does _everyone_ know _you_?” 

Zoey smiled covertly and shrugged. “I spend too much time here, I guess.” 

Adam pointed to her phone. “While you’re reminding me, can I get your number?”

She tried not to blush. “Um, yeah, okay."

He dug his phone out of his pocket.

"It's Zoey with a Y," she told him, and then she recited the string of numbers. He read them back, and she nodded.

“Also – and if this is too much, just tell me to shut up – but I’m going to this club tomorrow night, and I wanted to know if you might wanna come hang out. Uh, Cole’s gonna be there – one of the guys you met at the beach. And I think Jack, too.” 

“Is that the guy from your ethics class?”

“No,” Adam chuckled, “that’s Josh.”

“His name is Josh, too,” Zoey said, pointing at the kid helping Nate pass out cake. 

“Oh, really? Well, Jack is the one with the long hair. He’s really tall… kinda lanky…”

Zoey chuckled. “Yeah, I really liked him. I thought he was nice.”

“What’d you think of Cole?” Adam asked curiously.

Zoey smiled at the memory of him. “I have so many questions,” she admitted.

“Yeah, he’s a weird dude.”

“No, not _about_ him – _for_ him. I want to ask him about, like, the universe and shit. I feel like he would have really deep answers.”

“Oh, he would. He thinks he’s an alien.” 

Zoey raised her eyebrows.

“I’m not kidding." Adam elaborated after he swallowed a bite of cake. “He legitimately thinks he’s from outer space. Apparently he came from this planet called Kanzert and he’s, like, waiting for his alien parents to come back to Earth to get him.” 

“That’s actually kind of awesome.”

Adam nodded. “I honestly think he believes it. But you know, maybe he’s right. Maybe Kanzert is out there somewhere, and Cole’s really doing studies on us. Watching me and Jack while we sleep and all that.”

Zoey chuckled. Yeah, right. “Maybe.”

“So anyway – the club thing. It’s tomorrow, and it’s casual. If you decide to come, just text me.”

“Okay, yeah,” Zoey replied. She hoped she could go. It didn’t sound like it was going to be a date thing if his friends would be there, but at least he wanted to hang out with her! “Don’t you have class on Monday, though?” 

“Don’t remind me,” Adam groaned. “I have this really awful partner for a group project.” 

Zoey glanced up at the wall clock, and Adam caught her. “Sorry,” she rushed out. “I’m not bored, I’m just… excited for the fight,” she invented. 

“Oh, Alicia Mendez’s? Are you going?” he asked.

“Uh, yeah.”

He swallowed. “Is it cause Nate Kulina is your boyfriend?” 

Zoey blinked. “What? Oh, no. No. He’s not.” 

“He’s not?” Adam echoed, his eyebrows drawn together in confusion. 

“No,” Zoey laughed, wrinkling her nose in disgust. “He’s my best friend, but we’re not dating. No.” She shuddered a little. “Ew.” 

“Good,” Adam responded, and then his cheeks turned a little pink with embarrassment. 

Zoey blushed, too. She quickly took a bite of her cake. 

Meanwhile, Alicia slid over to Jay. “Is Ava still with you?” she asked. 

“Yeah, she's back at the motel,” he answered, not looking at her.

“Is she gonna come tonight?” 

“Uh… I don't know.” 

Alicia sighed. “How fucked up is she?” 

“She's alright,” Jay said softly.

“Yeah? She's my sister. Come on.”

Jay turned to her then. With a sigh, he admitted, “It's getting hard to get her out of the room.”

Alicia pursed her lips and nodded tightly. She was almost out of the gym when Alvey came running after her, following her out to the parking lot. “Hey!” he shouted. “Yo, yo, yo. Where the fuck are you going?” 

“I'm gonna go talk to my sister."

"Don't do this now.” 

“I'll be at the fight,” she told him. 

“Don't do it. Handle it after the fight.” 

“I said I'll be at the fight!” she snapped. She slammed her car door behind herself and turned the engine over.

Alvey stood and watched her floor it out of the parking lot. He sighed heavily. “Fuck.”  
  


* * *

 

Zoey made it back to her bike undetected by anyone at the gym, and she headed quickly back for the house. As soon as she got there, she turned the shower on. She gave Abigail some scratches and a treat while she waited for the water to get warm. The dog laid on the mostly-clean tile while Zoey undressed and stepped under the water. She quickly washed her hair and shaved her legs and then got back out, wringing her hair into the sink before she slipped on a camisole and a pair of cotton underwear. She leaned against the counter and started to blow-dry her hair. Her waves had grown long, so the drying process was much more time-consuming than it used to be. Luckily, Zoey had thought ahead and allowed herself some extra time just for that. 

Once she was dressed and her stitches were safely covered by the light jacket she’d invested in, she strapped on the high heels. “Alright,” she said to Abigail, turning in a slow circle so the one-eyed dog could see her entire outfit. “What do you think?”

Abigail barked happily and wagged her tail.

“Okay, good,” Zoey replied. She crouched down and let Abigail lick at her cheek. “Yeah, yeah, I love you, too, puppy. I’ll see you soon.”

And then she was off to Menotti’s with a hundred dollars and a fight pass in her clutch.

 

* * *

 

Alicia knocked on Ava’s motel room door and wasn’t surprised to hear her sister call, “No. No service.”

“It's me. Open up.” 

When Ava opened the door, Alicia came straight inside. The lights were barely on, the room smelled of sex and mold, and it clearly hadn’t been cleaned in weeks.

“Ava, this... this place is disgusting,” Alicia said sadly. 

“What do you want?” Ava asked dully.

“Why aren't you coming to my fight?”

“Because it's gross, and you look like a dyke,” she replied flatly. 

Alicia let her hurt show on her face. “Why are you being such a bitch?”

“Can you just leave me alone?”

“I've tried to leave you alone, okay, but you wormed your way back into my life. So now, like always, I have to worry about you.” 

“You really don't.” She sniffed tiredly. 

“What do you do in here all day, anyways?" she asked, looking around the dreary motel room again. "Just lie here in a coma and wait for Jay to fuck you?”

“Yeah,” Ava chuckled. She took a seat at the table. “That's actually what I... what I do. You don't look like you're doing so well, either.” 

“Well, at least I'm working towards something,” Alicia replied, straightening up a bit.

“So, what?” Ava dismissed, leaning forward to pick up cigarette. “You'll get pregnant again, and they'll probably take that one, too.”

“You know what? Fuck you, dude. I didn't have a lawyer. I didn't have any money.” 

Ava shrugged. “Still, I mean, they don't take kids from mothers. You got to be a major fuck-up for that to happen.”

“You know what? Fuck you, all right?!” Alicia yelled, smacking the cigarette right out of Ava’s hand. “Fuck you!” 

But before Alicia could say anything else, Ava grabbed an empty beer bottle off the table and smashed it over Alicia’s head. 

Alicia gasped, a cross between pain and shock. Several seconds passed, but she was lost for words. All she could do was gape at Ava, who looked stunned at her own action. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Alicia finally cried, rushing toward the bathroom. She could feel blood trickling across her scalp.

“I'm so sorry,” Ava murmured. The apology was sincere, but Alicia was too angry to even hear it. 

“Fuck! Fuck, man! Now they're not gonna let me fight!” Her mind flashed to Alvey and how livid he would be with her. She should have listened to him. Why hadn’t she listened to him? “Shit,” she whispered, flying out of the bathroom and back to her car. 

“Fuck,” Ava muttered. She cupped her hands over her mouth. “Fuck.”

* * *

 

Zoey sat at one of the patio tables outside Menotti’s, feeling a little guilty about using their space without buying a drink. She’d been planning to get herself something, but as soon as she got out of her Uber (she felt so rich taking Ubers around everywhere), she realized that if she were to spill on her expensive dress, she would never forgive herself. And she could quite possibly lose everything.

A shiny black car pulled up at the curb, and the guy rolled his window down. “Christina?” he called.

Zoey nodded, and he hopped out of the car, coming around to the passenger side to open the back door for her. 

“Oh,” she murmured. She’d been picturing herself getting in the passenger seat, although sitting in the back made sense; Will didn’t say he’d send someone to pick her up. He said he was going to send a car, implying that she was going to be chauffeured. 

It took ten minutes for the car to make it from Menotti’s to an Italian restaurant called Capo, where Zoey was going to meet Bob for the first time. As she exited the car, her eyes landed on Will, who waited while the driver helped her get out of the car and onto the sidewalk. Thinking quickly, she shifted the bag from her left hand to her right since two of the fingers on her left hand were still immovable. 

There were several people standing outside in fancy clothes, but surely this sad little building wasn’t the restaurant where Bob, who was paying her thousands of dollars to stand with him and look pretty, would be eating dinner. 

“Where are we going?” Zoey whispered.

Will chuckled. “Come on,” he muttered, motioning her toward the door of the gray house.

She couldn’t help but wish she’d slipped Jay’s gun inside her clutch. Why had she trusted these people?

“Remember, don’t speak unless you’re spoken to,” Will said, giving her a tight-lipped smile. “Bob is kind so long as you are. Be polite. Be warm.”

“What, like a Disney princess?” Zoey asked, almost rolling her eyes. 

“Exactly like that,” he responded. He held the plain, wooden door open for her and motioned her inside. “That’s him,” Will said, casually pointing out a man with a perfectly tailored suit and white hair.

Zoey blinked, careful not to let her reaction show on her face. He was much older than she’d expected. Although she supposed it made sense; not many girls her age would be jumping at the chance to get with a guy in his sixties unless he was paying them.

“He’ll want a kiss on the cheek,” Will murmured as they headed for the table. “Give him one. Let him give you one, too. Sit on his left side and don’t speak. Not one word. And if you are spoken to..." He looked at her. "Disney princess.”

She nodded. 

“I’ll be nearby,” Will told her. “Just signal me if you need anything, alright?” 

Zoey swallowed and headed up to the table. She put a smile on, as sincere as she could, and Bob noticed her immediately.

“Christina,” he grinned, standing up to embrace her. “Welcome, welcome. It’s so good to see you.” He wrapped one arm around her and went in for the kiss on the cheek just like Will had mentioned. She provided one as well and sat down on his left side. He seemed pleased but slipped immediately back to the conversation with the man across from him. The woman, who Zoey assumed was the other man's wife, gave Zoey a demure smile and returned her gaze to the tablecloth. 

Uncomfortably, Zoey glanced up at Will, who nodded at her as if to tell her she was doing a good job. He was drinking a cup of coffee at a table diagonally from Bob’s, and Zoey wished desperately that she could sit with him instead of these men. She hadn’t appreciated how caring and kind the guys at Navy Street had been with her until she was sitting here like a forgotten rag doll.

“Smile,” Will mouthed to her, and she did.

He nodded at her one more time and then averted his eyes so that she would as well. She looked at Bob, who caught her eye and lifted her hand for a kiss. He leaned into her ear and whispered, “You are even more beautiful than the photographs I saw of you.” 

Zoey blushed – sincerely – and whispered her thanks. His hand slid down to her knee and squeezed, but he soon let go.

Bob ordered food not only for Zoey, but for everyone at the table, choosing the most extravagant and expensive things he could. Zoey was allowed to drink without anyone even asking her age. She knew she looked a bit older than she was, but Bob had to have known she was barely eighteen… right? Or maybe none of them knew. Now that she thought about it, she wasn't sure if Will had even checked with her.

Still, she was glad to have some wine. It made her feel much better than she had before she drank it, even though while the men were raving about the many, many years it had aged in some dark cellar, Zoey was trying not wince at the coppery taste. She drank it anyway, because she needed the alcohol. She couldn’t wait to get to the fight and get wasted.

The food was delicious, the conversation she was forced to listen to was mediocre at best, and she never knew she could get so depressed from watching someone sit across from her at a dinner table. 

When the meal was over, Bob gave her another kiss on the cheek goodbye. "I'll see you again soon?"

She nodded, remembering not to speak. 

"Wonderful. My assistant will walk you out." 

"Not too painful, I hope," Will murmured to her as they exited the restaurant side by side. They paused on the sidewalk, and Will unzipped his bag, rifling through it for the right envelope. He found Zoey's -  _Christina's_ \- and slid his thumb across the contents before handing it to her. "Six point two," he said. "You did a great job. I'll text you when he wants you again." He opened the car door for her and waited while she climbed in. Before he shut the door, he said a little loudly, "Let me know if you have any trouble getting home, alright? Just call." He nodded at her, making sure she understood that the driver had heard. Even though this was one of Bob's people, she supposed no one could be too careful.

She fought the instinct to draw an X over her heart just before he closed the door. Will was like her lifeboat in shark-infested waters, and she was thankful for that. She hadn't felt gratitude in so long that she'd forgotten what it felt like. She missed Jay. 

All in all, it was a quite uneventful evening for sixty-two hundred dollars. In the car, she stuffed the money into her clutch as best she could and directed the driver to the fight venue.

 

* * *

 

“Fucking amazing,” Alvey hissed, hanging up the phone for the millionth time.

“She's not out there, and she's not answering her fucking phone,” Ryan muttered to Alvey as he made his way back into the holding room.

“Fucking girl, man,” Alvey groaned. “I'm gonna try her again.” He held his phone to his ear and waited for it to go to voicemail. “Hey. You got 20 minutes to fucking get here. Where are you? _Get here_.”

“Hey,” Alicia said breathlessly, flying into the room. 

“Fuck! We've been trying to call you.” 

“Look, I'm sorry. I didn't have my phone. Um…” 

“What's wrong?” he asked, concern bleeding into his voice. 

“I got a cut,” she confessed. 

“Where? What happened?”

“It's a long story. Can you just fix it?”

Alvey sighed. “Joe, epinephrine,” he called. “Sit down. Sit down.” He looked at it, and his fingers dug into it, making Alicia wince. “Fuck...”

“What if the doctor sees this?” she asked nervously.

“Shh. Just hold still, alright? Luckily, it's in your fucking hair. You keep your head tilted back, he won't see it, all right?” 

She nodded.

“You're good. Look, that's fine, alright? It's nothing. It's fine. You're good,” he encouraged. “You're ready to go. You're ready to fucking fight. You got your shit?”

She nodded again. 

“Good. Go get changed. Go. We don't have much time. Go, go, go, go, go. You're all good, alright? Relax.” He dropped his voice. “Fucking killing me,” he muttered. He looked to Joe Daddy. “You good? You got everything?” 

“Yes, coach.”

“Alright.” Alvey sighed and glanced at his phone. Nate still hadn’t seen Zoey, and Jay was MIA. He shoved his phone back in his pocket and turned to Lisa to ask if she'd heard from Jay, and he was shocked to see tears in her eyes. “Hey,” he said sharply. 

She took a shaky breath and compulsively rubbed the palms of her hands over her knees. 

“What's going on? You okay?” 

She nodded. “Mm-hmm. I just have… a headache,” she lied. 

“You sure?” 

“Mm-hmm.” 

“Want anything?” 

“No, I'm good.”

“Okay.” He turned as he heard Alicia coming back in. “We good? Got everything? Alright.”

Lisa took two breaths in and out through her mouth like she’d been taught, but the feelings were too much. She didn't know how much longer she could last.

 

* * *

  

“Hey!” Zoey chirped as she sidled up to her middle brother. “I’ve been looking for you!”

Nate looked at her skeptically. “You have? Cause I’ve been looking for you for the last fucking _hour_. You’re not answering your phone.”

“Oh, it’s on airplane mode,” she invented. “Trying to save battery.” 

Nate stared at her. 

“So!” she smiled, changing the subject. “Do you have a tab open? Cause I’m ready to start drinking.”

Sky walked up to the pair just as Zoey headed away to the bar.

“What’s her deal?” Nate asked. “She been talking to you today?”

“Uh, not since the gym earlier.”

Nate shook his head and watched as she uncharacteristically ordered shots at the bar. Something was definitely up.

 

* * *

 

“Good girl,” Alvey praised Alicia. “That's right. Warm up the shoulders. Shoulder, shoulder, shoulder, shoulder. Good, good, good, good, good, good, good, good. Nice. Nice. Nice. Nice. Come on. Come on! Yeah. Come on. Come on.”

And then all of a sudden, there was a crash from behind everyone, and they all whirled around. Alvey was the first to react. He headed quickly for Lisa, babbling, “Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Hey, hey. I gotcha,” he told her, helping her back up to the sofa. “You okay?” 

“Yeah. Yeah.” 

“Alright. Come on. Come on. Sit down. Sit down. Look at me. What happened?” 

She could feel everyone staring at her, and she was mortified. She wanted to cry, but that would only make everything worse. “No, um, I... Uh, uh...” 

“What do you need?” Alvey repeated, his voice calm and even.

“Um. Klonopin… in my purse.”

“Okay, alright. Alright.” He called over his shoulder as he dug through her things. “Give me some water.” And then back to Lisa, “Alright, alright, alright… you're okay. Just take this.”

Ryan was at Lisa’s side almost immediately with an open bottle of water. She shoved the pill into her mouth and swallowed it with a gulp of the liquid. 

“Music's playing,” some guy from the promotion said. “We gotta go.” 

Ryan was about to speak, but Alvey beat him to it. “Shut the fuck up." 

“Alvey,” Alicia murmured nervously. 

“Stay here with her, okay?” Alvey directed Ryan. “Yeah? Don't leave her alone.”

“Yeah.” 

“Alright?” Alvey asked as he got to his feet. “Joe, call the doctor.”

“Let's go, champ. Let's go, champ!” Ryan encouraged Alicia from the couch. As soon as they were out of the room, Ryan switched gears. “I’m here now,” he whispered to Lisa.

 

* * *

 

 

Zoey was laughing wildly, way too drunk as she and the Navy Street team watched Alicia enter the cage. 

“That’s Mike,” Zoey told Sky with a giggle. “He has the biggest fucking beard I’ve ever seen in my life. He’s so nice, but I wanna know when he was like, you know what I should do? I should grow a long-ass Viking beard and put fifteen ponytail holders on it. I mean, did he just wake up one morning like that? He has a kid, you know. Mikey. They’re so nice. His family, I mean. Did I say that already? They are. They’re so fucking nice, all of them.” She barely looked at Sky as she asked, “Oh, hey – do you have any coke?”

Sky glanced worriedly at Nate, who was listening to this whole exchange as best he could with all the chaotic noise in the room. He decided not to intervene verbally but physically. He stepped behind Sky, and she easily made room for him to stand between Zoey and herself. She didn’t know what the fuck to say, and with her past, she couldn’t be around any drug comments. Not right then. 

“Protect yourself at all times,” Mike was saying into the microphone.

Zoey joined in on the carpet. “Obey my commands at all times! Watch the back of the head! Keep it clean, be professional! Mouthpiece! Alright! Handle your business!” she cried. She pointed to one corner. “You ready to fight?” Then the other. “You ready to fight? Handle it!”

Nate was watching her with a close eye but still not commenting. She was acting like Jay, and not in a good way.

 

* * *

 

“Alright, alright, alright – you’re alright,” Alvey babbled as he got into the cage and went up to Alicia’s side. The first round was over, and there was blood gushing down her face. Still, he knew it would be okay. “You're fine, you're fine, you're fine, you're fine. Come on. Sit down. Sit down. Let me see. Let me see. Let me see.” He nodded as he looked it over. “Nothing. It's nothing. Joe, take care of the blood. Take care of the blood.” He got down on his stool. “Look at me. Look at me. You're fine. You're fine. You're fine. Your head bleeds a lot. Listen to me. You got a lot of fucking blood in that body. Don't worry about it. Okay? Head bleeds. The head bleeds. This is what I want you to do. I want you to fucking circle the other way, okay? You're circling into her power. Go the other way. Relax.” 

“I am.” 

“Breathe. You're fine. It's just a little blood. Good?” 

She nodded. 

“Come on. Do your job, okay?” 

“Second bell.” 

“Let's go. Let's go!”

“Mouthpiece… Alright, ladies. Second round. Ready to fight? You ready to fight? Let's go!”

 

* * *

 

Nate watched the blood coursing down Alicia’s face with a dark, twisting feeling in his stomach. He remembered his flashback panic-attack combo in Dr. Taylor's office and swallowed anxiously. Then he looked at his sister, who was staring up at the blood like she was looking at the fucking Pietà. How were they possibly this fucked up?

 


	25. Chapter 25

“Does that happen a lot?” Ryan asked Lisa softly.

“I thought I was over that one,” she admitted. Then, “You should go out there.”

“Whoa, whoa, hey,” he protested.

“No, you should go and see the fight.”

“Lisa. It's okay. And how about you stop telling me what to do?” He gave her a smile and slid an arm around her shoulders. “Come here. Relax.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Turn back to the fence!” Alvey shouted at Alicia. “Back to the fence. Move back to the fence. Up, up!”

“Get to the fence, get to the fence,” Juan encouraged.

“Hold her tight, hold her tight!” Alvey yelled. “Hold her tight! Yes! Get on top, get on top! That's it! Nice, nice, nice! _That's it!_ Nice! Nice! Nice!” 

In the end, it went to decision, but Alvey didn’t care. Alicia did a damn fine job. “Way to finish,” he praised. “That's the way to finish.”

“Ladies and gentlemen, after three rounds of women's MMA, we go to the judges' scorecards. Judge number one scores this bout 29 to 28 in favor of… Hill. Judge number two... 29-28 in favor of… Mendez. And finally, judge number three…”

Alvey held his breath.

“29-28 in favor of your winner by split decision... Alicia Mendez!” 

Alicia grinned, Alvey’s hands flew up in the air. Down on the carpet, Zoey slowly clapped her hands. She quickly got distracted, trying to wiggle her two paralyzed fingers. 

Nate was happy for Alicia, but he was more worried about his sister than anything. She was so fucked up... He’d never seen her like this before, and it wasn’t okay. She was all he had; he couldn’t allow her to get any worse. They were teetering on the edge, and if she fell, Nate would fall with her.

 

* * *

 

  

When Alvey came back into the room, he found Lisa completely relaxed with her head resting on Ryan’s shoulder. She was nestled under Ryan’s strong arm with her eyes closed. Alvey felt a small pang of emotion in his stomach; that should have been him with Lisa. But then he remembered her harsh words she'd said before she stormed out of his house the last time, and he forced himself to let it go. 

“Hey,” Ryan said. “How'd she do?”

“Yeah, she won. Split decision.”

“Good. Where is she?”

“She's getting her head stitched up.”

“Alright. I'll go see her.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

“Yeah.” 

Ryan disappeared out the door without looking back, and Alvey took his place on the couch next to Lisa. In a soft voice, he asked, “How are you feeling?” 

“Better.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Mm-hmm.”

“I'm gonna drive you back to the hotel,” Alvey told her. 

“I'm fine.” 

“You took a pill. You're not driving.”

“No, I'm okay,” she argued. She started to stand up, but she wobbled and lost her balance. Alvey caught her and lowered her back down to the sofa. “I can't drive myself,” she admitted quietly. 

“Okay. Okay. Let's get out of here. Put your arm around me.” 

Lisa obeyed. 

“ One, two… up. Okay.”

 

* * *

 

“Zebra, you’re drunk. Come on.” 

“No I’m not!”

“Yeah, you are. You’re fucking drunk, and we’re going home. Right now.” He grabbed her by the arm and started dragging her toward the door.

“Let go of me! Stop!"

“ _You_ stop,” Nate replied angrily. “You’re the one making stupid ass decisions over and over and fucking over.” 

“I’m _not,”_ she repeated.

“Oh yeah? You wanna wind up back in the fucking psych hospital? I will personally take you there.”

“Nate,” Sky interjected softly.

“No, I’m tired of this,” Nate snapped. “Why does she do this?” 

“She’s sick,” Sky replied.

“Everybody’s fucking sick. You don’t see us going around pulling shit like this.” 

“I’m staying here,” Zoey insisted, ignoring her brother.

“The fight’s over, Zoey. There’s nothing to stay for. Everybody’s leaving.”

“Well, I don't care - I wanna stay.” 

“No.” 

“I hate you,” Zoey spat.

“Yeah, sure,” Nate replied, rolling his eyes. “Come on. Grow the fuck up, and let's go.” 

“Why don’t you let me take her home?" Sky asked. "That’ll give you both some time to…” She trailed off, not wanting to upset him any further. 

“Yeah, good. I can’t fucking deal with her right now,” Nate huffed. He walked away without another word. 

Sky watched after him and then turned to Zoey. “Hey, you wanna have a sleepover?” she asked. 

Zoey smiled. “Yeaaah!”

 

* * *

 

Alicia signed a couple autographs on her way out, which was cool as fuck. She’d never had anyone want her signature before.

“Hey, coach,” Ryan grinned.  
  
Alicia’s mouth dropped open as she turned to see who Ryan was talking to.

“Hey! What's going on, brother?” the guy replied.

“What's going on, man? How are you?”

“I'm doing well. How's life?” 

“Good. Good. Yeah?” 

“Doing good?” he smiled. He turned to Alicia and stuck out his hand. “Hi. I'm Greg Jackson.” 

“Uh, yeah,” she laughed, a little star struck. “No shit.” 

“How are you?”

“Good, man!"

“Good. I saw that fight. Really impressive. Really impressive. You got a phone, by chance on you?” 

Alicia tried to keep her expression neutral. “Yeah.”

“Let me give you my number, and if you want to talk, let's talk.”

“Awesome!” she replied, handing it over and watching him type into it for a moment. 

“Yeah.”

“I really appreciate that. Thank you.”

“Cool. Yeah. You guys have a heck of a good night. It was really good to finally meet you.” 

“Yeah! I'm such a big fan.”

“Oh, thank you very much,” he smiled humbly. He gave Ryan another hug. “Brother.”

“Great to see you, coach.” 

“Great to see _you_." He pointed at Ryan and looked at Alicia. “Take care of this guy tonight. I love him.”

“Yeah,” Alicia smiled. 

“We'll see you guys. Have a good one.”

As soon as he disappeared, Alicia turned to Ryan. “Um... The fuck was that?” she asked happily. 

“That's coach,” he shrugged. “That's how it goes.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Want a drink?” Lisa asked when they got to her hotel room. He hesitated, and she insisted, “Have one.”

“I'll have a double.” Lisa handed him two tiny bottles. “Thank you.”

She uncapped hers. “To panic attacks.” 

“And insomnia.” 

“And depression.”

“Mm-hmm."

“And rage… and loss.”

“Mm. And self-loathing.”

Lisa chuckled. “That's not me. That's you.” 

“Yeah. But, um, bitterness?”

“I like it,” he nodded, “I like it.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Hopelessness?” 

“Oh, fuck. I'm swimming in that.” 

“Yeah. Here's to all the fucking pills that make the pain go away.” 

“God bless.”

“And…” Alvey pointed up at the ceiling. “Fuck you, God.”

“Right,” Lisa whispered. She brushed her hair back. “I know you think that, um, I fucking lied to you.” 

“No.”

“I am not a basket case, I promise you. I know that that's the last thing that Alicia needed before she went out for a fight, and it will not happen again.” 

“I know, I know, I know. Lisa, Lisa, we made a deal. You're part of the fucking gym. Okay? This doesn't change anything.” 

“It's gonna take a little bit of time to get back to normal.”

“Everybody understands that.” 

“Mm. It didn't take you long.” Alvey sighed and was about to speak when Lisa murmured, “That's not a dig. It's just - he wasn't real to you.”

“That's not fair.”

“I know it's not fair. It's fucking bullshit. But my doctor told me that, uh. Men don't know how to grieve this." She gave a light shrug. "It's not your fault.”

“I'm fucking hurting,” Alvey insisted, even though he wasn’t honestly sure if he was. “I am. I wanted this.”

“He wasn't inside you,” she whispered. Then she swallowed and looked up at him. “Are we really done? You and me?” 

“Don't you think?”

“No. That's not what I thought.”

Alvey almost laughed. “Really? I mean, let's be fucking honest with each other. You... You weren't happy.”

“Well, it felt better than this.”

 

* * *

 

Zoey started seeing the night in snapshots. The room was getting less spinny and tilty, but she still wasn’t anywhere close to sober when Sky got her into the passenger seat of her car.

“Are you tired?” Sky asked as they drove.

“Nope,” she popped.

“Not even a little?”

“Not even a little,” Zoey echoed.

“Well, what do you wanna do when we get home?” 

“Eat,” Zoey answered decidedly. 

Sky chuckled. “Okay.” 

Things got fuzzy after that, but Zoey remembered picking apart chicken drumsticks from Sky’s fridge and laughing wildly at The Office on the couch.

Sky threw up in the bathroom again but came out smiling brightly and pretending to have yawned. 

Zoey lost a little more time.

When the girls got ready for bed, Zoey had sobered up considerably. Sky started kissing her, and she tasted like toothpaste, but Zoey was kind of horny from all the drinking, so it was fine.

Before Zoey knew it, her clothes were being shoved off, and Sky was peeling her own top and shorts off as well. Zoey fumbled around in the dark, her fingers sliding into Sky the same way she slid them into herself when she was alone. Sky was touching her and biting her, and they both kept sighing contentedly at the tingly feelings between their legs…

Sky pushed Zoey’s hair back from her face and swallowed her moan in a deep kiss. She climbed halfway on top of Zoey and spread her legs apart. Zoey let Sky lead, mostly just figuring out what felt good and doing that.

By morning, she wouldn’t remember whether she came or not.


	26. Chapter 26

Jay sat in the motel parking lot, his key chain jingling as he turned the engine on. He slid the business card out of his wallet and dialed the number on the back of the red card he found on Nate’s bedroom floor. 

The line rang and rang and then went to voicemail. 

“Hi.” 

Jay’s stomach dropped at the sound of a male voice. 

“You've reached Will Casady at the Burns Agency. Please leave a detailed mess-”

Jay ended the call and lightly banged his head into the steering wheel.

Fuck.

 

* * *

 

Ryan crept out his bedroom door, sneakers in hand and his sweatshirt hood pulled up.

“Ryan?” Keith asked. He was standing in his doorway, skin glistening.

“Shh,” Ryan whispered back. He closed the door as quietly as he could and walked down the hall to Keith’s room. "Why are you awake?"

“Ryan?” Keith asked again, his voice still at the same volume. 

Ryan grabbed him by the arm and dragged him down the hallway. “What.”

“Where are you going?”

God, he was so fucking loud. Ryan shook his head and hissed, “Quiet, man. She's trying to sleep, dude.”

“Oh, right.” 

“I'm going for a run.” He looked his roommate over. “You’re sweating like a pig. Wh... what are you doing up?” 

“I can't sleep. Ryan, I haven't- I haven’t shut my eyes once all night.” 

“Just- just go lay down, go in there.” 

Keith nodded. “I'll try.” 

“Okay.” Ryan lightly bumped Keith in the chest with his fist and started to walk away. 

“So, where are you going?” he asked again.

Ryan stopped and blinked at him. “I’m going running, Keith,” he replied slowly. 

“Right.”

Ryan shifted his weight, peering at him closely. “You all right?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. I'll be back in an hour.”

“Okay.” Keith went back in his room. 

Ryan left, and a few moments later, Keith emerged with a hammer. After only a few seconds of hesitation, he headed down the hall, pushed Ryan’s door open, and slipped inside. Alicia was sleeping soundly under the covers. Keith wandered up to the edge of the mattress and stood there for several moments. Then he raised the hammer. 

He looked at her smooth skin and wondered how much blood there would be on the sheets if he smashed her head in. God, he wanted to do it. He wanted to… He wanted to feel it. The last time he'd killed, it had been so unexpected, so quick, that he hadn't been able to  _feel_ it.

But Ryan would be so angry.

Keith let out a panicked sound, and then he chuckled a little hysterically. 

The sounds woke Alicia who jumped. “Keith!” 

“Uhh... sorry,” he muttered, rushing out of the room. He went back into his own bedroom where he hissed, “Fuck!” He paced around for a few seconds, breathing hard. He couldn’t quell the urge – he needed to hit something. He needed a bone to splinter, needed to feel something smash underneath him… 

Before he could think too much about it, he got down on his knees and laid his arm on the hardwood floor. Alarm bells were going off in his mind, and there was only one way to silence them. 

He brought the hammer down. There was a sickening crack as the bone split. Keith howled. 

“Keith?!” came a cry from the other room. 

Keith could only scream again. 

Alicia rushed in. “Keith, what the fuck did you do?!” she demanded, taking in the scene before her. 

“I'm sorry!” Keith begged. “Ow! I'm fucking sorry…. fuck.” 

Alicia couldn’t tell whether he was crying or laughing.

 

* * *

 

Zoey spent the morning hungover and the rest of the day lounging around. She still had that invite from cute Adam that she intended to accept, so when she got home from Sky’s (Sky was still sleeping, of course), she treated herself to a warm bath, an avocado, and a healthy dose of Nate’s Pedialyte.

After she ate, Zoey was supposed to take her medicine, but her green pill wasn’t sitting out on the table for her. Nate put it out for her every morning, but she could tell that he was still sleeping. That was a little weird. Yeah, he’d been out late the night before, but it was afternoon, and he never needed much sleep. She cracked the door open and peeked in. He didn’t wake up.

“Nate?” she asked.

His eyes fluttered open and then squeezed shut. 

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Cold,” he muttered.

“You’re cold?” she responded, her eyebrows shooting up. “It’s like 75 degrees in here.” 

“No, it’s not. Can you get another blanket?” 

Zoey blinked. “Yeah, Nate, it is.” 

“Please,” he muttered. 

One side of Zoey’s mouth tilted down. She went forward and rested a hand on his forehead. “Oh, shit,” she murmured. She set her phone down on his nightstand. “Yeah, I’ll get you one. Hang on.” 

She brought him the heaviest blanket from the linen closet and draped it over him. Then she climbed under the covers next to him.

“You’re warm,” Nate whispered, scooching toward her.

“ _You_ are,” Zoey replied. Nate was burning up.

“Warm,” he repeated. He sounded like a little kid.

Zoey was growing more concerned by the second. “Do you want some medicine?”

“No. Just stay. You’re so warm.”

Zoey wrapped an arm around him and started rubbing his hair with her other hand. He gave an uncharacteristic and sleepy sigh. She kissed his forehead. His eyes were still closed, but she told him, “Go back to sleep.”

He replied softly, “Kay.”

Zoey’s first instinct was to text Jay and tell him that Nate was running a fever, but she knew she couldn’t do that now. She wasn’t exactly speaking to him. 

Her phone buzzed on Nate’s night table with a text, and Zoey detangled herself from her brother to check it. She figured it would be Sky again - Zoey had ignored two messages from her that morning - but it wasn't. 

 

 **310-555-8123** : _Hey! This is Adam. You coming 2nite?_

 **Zoey** : _Probably. I want to. Address?_

 **310-555-8123** : _U heard of Sound?_

 **Zoey** : _Yeah. Is it there?_  

 **310-555-8123** : _Yep. Cole is def coming. Not sure abt Jack yet but more of my friends will be there 2.  
_**310-555-8123** : _Don't pre-game, ok?_ _Can’t wait to c u :)_

 **Zoey** : _:)_

  

“Who is that?” Nate asked drowsily.

“Nobody,” Zoey muttered, turning the phone off and starting to sit up. “Go back to sleep. I’m gonna go-”

“No,” Nate begged.

“What?”

“No. I have to talk to you.”

“Nate, you’re exhausted,” she protested. 

He mumbled, “’m fine.”

“Let’s talk later, okay?” 

“No, now.” 

He was delirious, and it most likely wasn't important anyway. He'd probably ask her whether she knew that Ninja Turtles liked pizza. “Nate-” 

He mumbled, “Can you stop drinking so much please?” 

Zoey’s eyebrows rose again. “What?” That certainly wasn’t what she’d been expecting him to say. 

“You’re kinda… scaring me.” 

“Nate,” she sighed. 

“Don’t want you to be an alcoholic like Dad.” 

“Dad’s not-” Well, maybe he was.

He opened his eyes and looked at her then. “Please,” he begged. 

Zoey sighed. Like she could ever say no to that puppy dog face. “Okay,” she murmured, lying back down.

Nate let his heavy eyelids fall shut again. “’m going back to sleep.” 

“Okay,” she repeated softly.

She laid with him until his breath turned even, and then she disappeared out the door.

 

* * *

 

“How did his mom die?” Alicia demanded in the waiting room. 

“His dad," Ryan replied. 

“And what did he kill her with?”

Ryan sighed. “A hammer.” 

“Exactly – a fucking hammer.”

“Mm.” 

“Look, I know he's your boy, but we should call the police.” 

“Because he broke his own hand? No.”

“Yes!” 

“No.”

“He's already stabbed someone, and now he's watching me sleep.”

“Shut the fuck up," Ryan whispered.

“He thinks you're his fucking mother,” Alicia continued, not dropping her voice. 

“I'll deal with him.”

“Ryan, he's obsessed with you. Why do you put up with him?” 

Ryan quietly replied, "I'm the only person that he knows.” 

Alicia crossed her arms firmly across her chest just as Keith walked out with a blue cast on his arm.

“Alright, here he is,” Ryan announced, standing up.

“Um, we need... I need to get... me... painkillers.”

“Okay. You want to stop and get something to eat?” 

“No, no.” 

“You sure? We can get you anything you want.” It wasn’t like Keith to turn down food.

“I just want to go home.”

Ryan clapped him on the good shoulder and they headed for the parking lot. 

 

* * *

 

Ava woke to the sound of Jay’s blender whirring. She blinked and looked over at him.

“Sorry,” he said insincerely. 

“I have to get out of this room,” she moaned.

Bingo. That’s what Jay had been hoping for. “ _That_ is a superlative idea. You should call your sister, see what she's up to tonight.”

“Are you training all day again?” 

“Mm-hmm, I am,” he said firmly, not giving her any room for disagreement. He was so tired of her and all her toxicity. “And,” he said, crossing the room, “I got you a little something-something.” He held up a pink Polaroid camera. “Hmm?” He tossed it to her.

“A camera?” she asked blankly. 

“Yeah. You can do something fun, you know?” 

“Like what?” 

Jay almost rolled his eyes. She was a personification of a dark cloud. “Like... go to the beach, go to Malibu, take some photos, go to a museum…”

“Don't be condescending.”

“I wasn't.”

“You can leave,” she said dully. “You don't have to be here. It's fine.”

“You know...” Jay began softly. He tried not to let any of his anger into his tone. “You can't make me feel guilty for doing my job even when I'm _barely_ fucking doing it. And you know... I wasn't being condescending. I just don't know what it is... that you want.”

She huffed and rolled her eyes.

“Call your sister,” he continued. “Maybe go out with her, huh? Okay, mamacita?” She didn’t say anything, but he didn’t care. He grabbed his keys and headed out the door. “Adios.”

 

* * *

 

“So, take these when you wake up,” Ryan instructed, gently shaking two of Keith’s pain pills out of the bottle and passing them to him. 

“It hurts now,” Keith said softly. He wasn’t complaining, but he seemed pretty upset. 

“Well...” Ryan glanced at the label and did some mental math. “You can take one now,” he concluded.

“Thanks.” Keith sighed. He took the medicine and laid back on his pillows. “Sorry about all this. I know you're supposed to be at the gym today.”

“It's alright, I'm... I'm going this afternoon.” He cleared his throat. “Hey.” 

“Yeah?”

“What were you gonna do with that hammer?” 

“Oh, I was... that was an impulse buy. Shit, that was an impulse buy. You can throw that away if you want.” 

“I did.” 

Keith turned over.

“Hey,” Ryan said again.

Keith looked over his shoulder.

“Were you gonna hurt her?”

Silence. 

“I said, were you gonna hurt her?” he asked, raising his voice a little. 

“I don't think so.”

Ryan nodded. “Okay. Well, get some sleep, alright?” He pulled the covers over Keith. “Here you go.” He started to leave but paused in the doorway. “Hey.”

“Yeah?” 

“We're gonna have to talk about this, okay?”

“Didn't... Didn't we just talk about it?” 

Ryan closed his eyes and rubbed a hand over his forehead. “We're gonna have to talk about it some more.” 

“Oh. Okay.” 

“Okay."

"Hey, Ryan?” 

“Yeah?”

“Are you gonna move out now?”

Ryan sighed. “No. No, Keith, I'm not going anywhere.” 

Keith let out a quiet sob. “Okay.”

 

* * *

 

There was a loud banging on the door. Abby let out a happy bark and skittered off down the stairs. Zoey yawned, tucked her hair behind her ear, and jogged down the steps after the dog. “I’m coming, I’m coming,” she called, annoyed. Whoever was making all this racket was going to wake up Nate, and he needed to sleep.

Zoey was surprised to see Jay crouched down at the door, wiggling his fingers in front of the glass where Abigail was.

When Jay saw Zoey, he straightened up a little. 

She opened the door. “Uh, hey.” 

“Hey.”

“Why are you knocking?” she asked flatly. “Did you do so much dope you forgot the code?”

His grin wiped right off his face. “I was just… waiting for Nate to come down. I texted him I was here, and he never responded.”

“Oh." She gave him a tight smile. "Well, he’s not coming.” 

Jay’s eyebrows wrinkled. “What? Why not?” 

“He’s sick.”

“What?” Jay asked, coming inside. “What’s wrong?”

“He’s got a fever.”

“Fuck. Why didn’t you tell me?” 

She huffed an emotionless laugh. 

“What?” 

“I just… didn’t think you’d care.”

Jay’s face contorted in anger. He grabbed Zoey by the shoulders and let his fingers dig in. _I care,_ he was about to hiss, but he was interrupted by a loud growl. Abigail was snarling as she butted between Jay and his little sister.

Jay blinked down at the black dog and then looked back up at his sister, who took a quick step back behind Abigail as soon as Jay let go of her. Her eyes were wide, and she looked afraid. Of course she would – he’d just acted exactly the way Alvey always did right before he hit someone. 

“Zee,” Jay murmured, realizing what he’d done.

“Nate’s not coming,” she repeated, her voice a little unsteady. "I'm taking care of him, and he'll be fine. Can you go, please?”

“Zoey-”

But Zoey was already turning and heading back up the stairs.

“I’m sorry,” Jay called after her, but she didn’t stop walking. 

Abigail growled again. Jay averted his eyes and headed out.

 

* * *

 

“So, I called Greg Jackson," Alicia told Ryan on the patio.

“Yeah?” 

“He, uh... He wants me to go to Albuquerque. And he said I'm really talented. He... just sees a few things that he could help me with.” At Ryan’s blank stare, he added, “He also said he'll work with Alvey.” Ryan's face must have moved, because she scoffed, “What?” 

“He's just being nice. I mean, he knows Alvey will never be his bitch.” 

“What do you think I should do?” 

“I think he's a legend. I think it's a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. You gotta do it.”

“Any downside?” 

He shrugged and then shook his head. “No downside.”

“You didn't last there very long,” she pointed out carefully.

“Yeah, but that's on me. I mean, he's got a gym full of killers, and if you fuck off or you don't perform, you're out. Next man up.” 

She looked at him nervously.

“It's a good thing," he assured. "But you got to tell Alvey today. You don't want him to hear it from someone else.” He stood up and jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “You coming to the gym with me or...?”

“Yeah, I'm not staying here by myself.”

 

* * *

 

Zoey hurried down the hall laid down in bed next to Nate, her heart pounding. She pressed close to him and shut her eyes. He couldn’t protect her like this, but at least she felt better next to him. Jay had never looked at her like that before. 

Nate was so warm that it was like he was giving off heat waves. She had no idea how he was under all these blankets with a sweatshirt on. He must have been absolutely freezing. 

Once Zoey calmed down, she got up and found Abigail sitting patiently outside the door, waiting for her. Zoey crouched down. “Thanks, girl,” she whispered, giving Abby a firm hug around the neck. Abigail licked Zoey’s cheek as she pulled away.

Together, they walked a few steps to the bathroom, where Zoey got three washcloths damp with cold water. She wrung them out a bit and carried them into Nate’s room. Ever so gently, she tugged the sleeves of his sweatshirt down and rested a cool washcloth on each of his wrists before lying one across his forehead. She couldn’t believe that he didn’t wake up. Nate was always such a light sleeper.

“Where’s my medicine?” she whispered softly to him. She knew he wasn’t going to wake up, and she also knew that she would never find it. He probably had the pill bottle in a shoe or the pocket of a backpack he never used. She didn’t think it was worth it to look. 

Abigail hopped onto the foot of Nate’s bed and curled her body around his feet. Zoey sat there watching them for a minute and then went downstairs. There was nothing more she could do for Nate like this. 

She left the door cracked open when she left.

 

* * *

 

“What are you doing here?” Lisa asked as Jay appeared in her office. His time training was over, and he should have been long gone. “Ryan's gonna be here, like, any second.” 

“Fear not. By the time he arrives, I'll be but a trail of musk.” 

Lisa scoffed.

“What are ya... What are you doing later? Hmm?”

“Getting my pussy waxed,” she deadpanned.

“Indeed. And after that activity? Do you want to have... I don't know, you want to have a drink?” 

“You're in camp. You're not supposed to be drinking.” 

“Lisa, I'm 160 pounds. Weight... not an issue. Also I have the constitution of a goddamn cast-iron skillet. Have a drink with me. Lisa, it'll take the edge off of this waxing process.” 

“I know...” 

“Lisa...”

“Jay.” 

“Lisa... “ he begged, getting on his knees and grabbing Lisa’s hand. “I fucking miss you. We haven't shared a drink in over a year, and that makes Jay _very_ sad. Lisa, I will not let you hide yourself in this office. No. No longer.” He started kissing her hand over and over.

She sighed and leaned forward, pushing him back by the forehead. “Okay, if I have a drink with you, am I the worst manager in the history of managers?” 

“Well... it's not for me to judge,” he winked. “I'll text you all the specifics... on your cell phone.” He sauntered out, and she rolled her eyes.

 

* * *

 

“Hey, hey,” a man said, coming up to Ava in the motel parking lot. “Let me help you.”

He took the red suitcase out of her hands and heaved it into her trunk.

“Thanks."

"You out of here?”

“Yeah.”

“Where you headed?”

“Miami,” she answered, squinting into the sun as she tucked a cigarette between her lips.

“Is that home?”

She nodded. “Yeah.”

“No shit. You know, I'm from Tallahassee. You ever get up there?” 

“Never been.”

He chuckled. “You're not missing that much. Hey, uh, you got another cigarette?”

“Uh...” She shrugged. “Sure.” She lit hers and passed him the lighter.

“Thanks. So, your boyfriend... is he like a fitness trainer or something?” 

“He's a fighter.”

“No shit,” the guy replied, nodding slowly.

The conversation paused a little awkwardly, and Ava jumped on the chance for what her body needed. “Sorry to ask, but do you have any...thing, um...” 

“What are you looking for?” he asked knowingly.

“I just want to get high.”

“I got some blow. It's not very good,” he admitted.

“Did you want to share it?”

“Your boyfriend's not gonna come after me, is he?” 

“We won't tell him,” Ava replied softly. 

The guy grinned. “Okay.”

 

* * *

 

“Ohhh! Yes!” Alvey praised. “Nice! You see how more effective you are? You put it all together, right? You don't fucking give him that space. Don't give him that space.”

“Yeah,” Ryan panted. He leaned up against the cage and motioned Alvey toward him. 

“Hey. There's something you should know, but you didn't hear it from me...”

Alvey nodded. 

Ryan leaned in close. “Jackson's coming for Alicia.” 

Alvey was shocked. “Wait, when?” 

“After her fight, he came up to her,” Ryan explained through ragged breaths. “She's listening, Coach.” 

“Is she going?”

Ryan nodded. “She's going.” 

“Okay.” 

“Just thought you should know.” 

Alvey slapped him on the shoulder. “Hey. Good looking out, man.”

“Yeah.” 

“Hey,” Alvey called to Juan. He smacked his mitts together. “Let's go again.”

 

* * *

 

After he left the gym, Jay headed back to Alvey’s place. He wanted to apologize to Zoey, and he wanted to check on Nate. And there may have been something else on his mind as well. He was just pulling to the curb when a black car he didn’t recognize stopped by the mailbox. Jay pulled past the house and slightly around the corner. He idled for a moment, watching to see what would happen. 

Zoey came down Alvey’s driveway in a short dress Jay had never seen before and heels that were several inches high. He raised his eyebrows and watched as she said something to the driver and then climbed into the backseat. The windows were tinted enough that he couldn’t see inside, and from this distance, it was going to be hard to recognize anyone anyway. Jay had half a mind to follow her, but once the car was gone, his focus shifted back to Nate. He pulled his truck into the driveway and put in the code. Abigail was nowhere to be found, but he still proceeded carefully just in case. 

“Anybody home?” Jay called, but he knew Nate could be the only person there. Alvey was at the gym training Ryan, and Zoey had left looking like… Jay didn’t even want to think about what she looked like.

The eldest Kulina sibling walked carefully up the stairs and noticed that the bloodstains from Nate's feet after Zoey's suicide attempt were still visible. They were faint as fuck, like Alvey had hired someone mediocre to come clean them, but they were there.

Jay pushed the door to Nate’s bedroom open. Nate didn’t stir, so Jay crept forward. 

Abigail sat up with her teeth bared, but she let him come in. She watched him closely, turning her head slightly so she could see him better with her one eye. 

“It’s okay,” Jay murmured to her as he moved forward. “I just wanna see my little brother. Not gonna hurt anybody, I promise.” 

Her ears were back, and her teeth were still visible, but she let him sit down at Nate’s side. Jay stroked Nate’s cheek with the back of his hand. Zoey was right - Nate was definitely sick. It seemed that she’d done her part, though; there was an open container of Advil on the nightstand next to Nate’s phone, and she’d laid washcloths on his skin.

Jay remembered when he’d been eleven, and Nate had just turned four. Nate had a fever then, too, and all Jay had to do to get him to feel better was scoop him up and snuggle with him on the couch. Mom was heavily pregnant with Zoey at the time, and Dad had to work, so Jay took it upon himself to take care of Nate. When Nate finally fell asleep on his chest, Jay had never been so proud to be a big brother. 

Things were different now.

Jay swallowed and leaned down to kiss Nate’s head. “I love you,” he muttered. He sighed and looked around the room. It wasn’t as messy as Jay had been expecting it to be. Aside from a few stray shoes and a t-shirt lying on the floor, it was pretty clean. Not as much clutter as Jay usually noticed in Nate's spaces. There were stickers plastered on his nightstand, ranging from the Venum snake to Blink-182’s smiley face and the Underclass Hero logo to a light green one that read, “Do or do not. There is no try.” Jay smiled at that one. Nate used to say that to him all the time when they were growing up. Jay would say it back in the Yoda voice, and Nate would always smile.

Jay stared at Nate’s phone until curiosity got the best of him and he slid it across the table toward himself. He stood up and went into the hallway. There was a voicemail from an unmarked number, and Jay clicked on it.

“Hi, Nate, this is Dr. Taylor,” a woman’s voice said. “My receptionist let me know that you didn't make another appointment, and I just wanted to make sure everything is alright. I know last session was difficult for you, but I promise that your flashback is nothing to be ashamed of.” 

Jay’s stomach dropped. Nate was having flashbacks?

“You’re processing a trauma right now, and I don’t want you to be without any resources. Give me a call back and we'll make an appointment. Or if you want, I can make a list of other people I think could help you. You said yourself that you’ve learned from Zoey that therapy isn’t always easy and that her hardest sessions seemed to help her the most. I think that’s going to be true for you, too. Again, just give the office a call if you want, and we’ll get you an appointment, or I can give you some information. Have a great weekend, Nate. Buh-bye.”

Jay glanced down at the phone. He made a mental note to look up this 'Dr. Taylor' lady. Then he went over to Nate’s contact list and started typing in the number from the business card in his wallet. He tried to pretend this wasn’t the main reason he’d come to Dad’s.

He typed in the numbers… and up came a contact. Fuck. Jay opened a new text. 

 

 **Nate** : _Hey_

 

The reply was almost instant. 

 

 **Will** : _I didn’t think I’d hear from you again._

 

Jay raised his eyebrows.

 

 **Nate:** _Want to meet up?_

 **Will** : _Are you sure? Not into games.  
_**Will** : _Love to see you if serious. Don’t want to be teased._

 **Nate** : _What do you want?_

 

Another instant reply.

 

 **Will** : _You._

 

Jay swallowed. His breath was caught in his throat.

 

 **Nate** : _Meet me at Bardot’s. 9:30?_

 **Will** : _Ok. See you there._

 

Jay deleted the texts and slipped the phone back onto Nate’s nightstand. He was the worst… first, grabbing Zoey so hard that the fucking dog growled at him, second, letting her go off in a teeny dress when he knew she'd been doing something twisted for money, and third, stealing Nate’s phone and texting god-knows-who to meet him at a bar that Nate wouldn’t really be at… all while Nate was sick. What a great fucking brother.

 

* * *

 

“Hey,” Lisa said. Alicia was sitting on the couch outside when Lisa came for her smoke break. 

“Um... Do you have a second?” 

“Sure. What's up?” 

“Um...”

At the look on Alicia’s face, Lisa snorted. “Un-fucking-believable. You're leaving.”

“How did you know?” 

Lisa waved her cigarette like a wand. “I'm magic. Who is it?” 

“Greg Jackson.”

Lisa didn’t look impressed.

“Honestly, I... I didn't look for this. He came up to me at the fight.” 

“Yeah, I know how it goes.”

“And he was being cool, you know? He said he'd work with Alvey.”

“That's very generous,” Lisa said sarcastically.

“Come on, man, it's Greg fucking Jackson.”

“I know. He's great. That's why he's got Jon, Holly, BJ, Carlos, Michelle, Rashad, Cowboy, and twenty other fighters that you'll be behind.”

“I'll work my way up.” 

“Yeah, one way or another, right?” Lisa muttered. 

“Look, I know you're pissed-”

“Mm! I’m not.”

“-but this is fucking _huge_. I can't pass this up.” 

“I understand. Thanks for telling me.” 

“So, that's it?”

Lisa shrugged carelessly. “Fighters leave all the time. They leave Greg, too.”

“Yeah, well, do you think I'm making a mistake?”

“How the fuck would I know?” Lisa snapped. “And stop with the little girl bullshit. If you want to go, you should go.”  
  
Alicia was taken aback. “I was just asking your opinion.”

“You don't get my fucking opinion. I'm not here to make you feel good about this. And I don't have time for fighters who aren't on my roster.” 

“Fine.” 

“Oh, and you should tell Alvey after he's done with Ryan, or I will.”

 

* * *

 

Jay pulled back into the motel parking lot and frowned at the sight of Ava’s car filling the same faded parking space it had been for the past week. He felt the hood with the back of his hand, searching for heat there the same way he’d just been searching for heat on his brother’s cheek. Unlike Nate, however, the car was cool as a cucumber in the California sun. 

Jay went into the room. All the lights were off, and the bed was messily made, but there was no Ava. On the center of the quilt, there was his belt. And in the center of his belt, there lay a single Polaroid. He picked it up to get a better look at it. It was a dark snap of Ava herself. She was undeniably beautiful, but her eyes were starting to sink into her face. She looked miserable. 

“Very depressing,” Jay mused, tossing the photo back onto the bed. “Ava?” he called. He poked his head inside the bathroom, but she wasn’t there either. He sat down on the window seat and dialed her number.

“Um, hello. This is Jay...mo." It rhymed, and it was dumb, but it made him smile, so he said it. He hated that he got self-conscious about fun around her. She sucked the joy out of everything. "Um... where are you? I just pulled up, and your car is here, but all your shit is gone. Um... maybe you're doing laundry?” He chuckled at the idea. Ava? Laundry? Never. “Yeah, call me back. Bye.”

 

* * *

 

“Hey.”

“Hey.” 

“You're not training today, right?” 

“No, I, um... Can we talk?” 

“My office,” Alvey replied, motioning for her to lead the way. As soon as the door was shut, he asked, "What's up?” 

“Okay,” she started, her voice breaking.

“You alright? What's going on?” he asked, feigning worry. He knew exactly what was happening. 

“I'm leaving.”

“For who?” he asked, playing surprised. 

“Greg Jackson.”

Alvey nodded as though he were taking it in for the first time. 

“You know, I fucking hate to. I mean, you've been awesome to me, and I fucking... I love being here.”

"We love having you.” 

“Come on,” Alicia protested, “you know I'm a pain in the ass.” 

Alvey chuckled. “You think any of these fighters are a day at the beach?”

She tried to smile. 

“Is your mind made up?”

She nodded and let out a soft sob. “Yeah. I'm sorry.” 

“Ah, it's okay. Let me tell you something. You think you're the first fighter to leave me? Hmm? You know how many fucking tough guys sat on that couch, tears in their eyes, trying to nut up, tell me they're gone? I tell them all the same thing. This place, my team, it's not for everyone. Sometimes it's just not a fit, you know, that's the way it goes.” He pointed at her and told her the truth. “I don't feel that way about you. I love coaching you. I love watching you train. You're very talented. And you are as fucked up as I am,” he said with a grin.

Alicia laughed and sniffled. 

“But there's one fucking thing I know. This business will always turn its back on you, so you need people in your life that never will."

She nodded.

"And that's what I am for you. We're family. Okay? My door, it's always open. Always. Do you understand that? Yeah?”

She kept nodding. “Thank you, Coach. I mean, for... for _everything_. I was nothing before I came here.” 

“It's okay,” Alvey replied. “We'll miss you.” He watched her cry for a moment before he said, “You take some time in here, all right? I'll be around all day if you want to talk to me."

“Thank you.”

“You're welcome.” He paused in the doorway. “You're alright.”


	27. Chapter 27

“Ahhhh,” Jay sighed, swallowing another shot.

“You don't give a shit about this fight, do you?” Lisa asked bluntly. She was far more hammered than he was, and it was easy to see. 

“You know… I tried giving a shit once, and it just... did not feel good.”

She chuckled. “Cheers.” 

He clinked his glass against hers. “Cheers. It's nice to see you drinking again.”

“It's really good to be back.” 

“Been missing my jogging partner,” Jay teased.

Lisa smiled. “So, for real, what's going on with you?” she asked. “You won two title fights, and I thought you'd be happy.”

“Yeah, well. I thought I would, too.”

“So, why aren't you?”

“Well, I thought my life would be different somehow,” he confessed, “that things would change. But nothing's different, you know? Not a fucking thing came my way. The only thing different is that my baby fucking sister slit her goddamn wrists.”

Lisa took another drink. “Okay, well, I'm back now,” she said dismissively, “okay, and I can get you sponsors, but you have to keep the fucking needle out of your arm.”

“Oh, I'm done with that,” Jay nodded. 

“You promise?” 

Jay crossed himself.

Lisa looked at him skeptically. He tried to look away, but she sharply whispered, “Hey!” and grabbed him by the chin. Her acrylic nails dug into his skin as she studied his expression. “You swear on Nate and Zee?” she asked. 

He didn’t respond.

She let go of him but didn't let any reaction show.

“Moving on... Would you like to do this again?” he asked pointing to the drinks. 

“I would like to keep them coming, yes,” she replied, letting the drug issue drop. 

“Okay.”

The pair high-fived, and Jay got up and walked to the bar.

“Whiskey-ginger, please,” a man with a strong accent was saying to the bartender. “Keep the tab open.”

Jay just barely kept his eyes from going wide as he took in the handsome, well-dressed man beside him. This was the only guy that looked to be alone. Could this be…? Jay glanced at his phone. 9:28 and he was just arriving. This could totally be him.

 

* * *

 

Zoey was stuck in a line outside of Sound, and it was taking much, much longer than normal to get inside. Not that she went clubbing often, but still.

She could hear bass pounding through the walls, and responses from Adam were coming very few and far between. He hadn’t texted her back for almost an hour, so she decided to just get into the queue. When she got up close, she could see what was taking so long. 

The bouncer was giving everyone a breathalyzer. 

Wait, what?

The _bouncer_ was giving _everyone_ … a breathalyzer? 

 

 **Zoey** : _What is going on out here? Why is everyone taking a breathalyzer?_

 

That got a quick response.

 

 **Adam** : _U’ll c :) just do it  
_**Adam** : _Ur sober right?_

 **Zoey** : _Yeah. I’d love to, but this is taking forever_

 

Within a few moments, one of the bouncers called out to the line, “Zoey with a Y?”

Zoey blinked.

“Zoey with a Y?” he repeated. 

“That’s me,” she called, awkwardly raising her hand. What the hell was going on?

The guy beckoned her forward. “Come here.” 

She went to the front of the line, and he held out a breathalyzer. She looked at it curiously but took a deep breath and blew. She’d never had to do one of these before, but Jay had described it, and she was definitely a little light-headed at the end like he’d warned. 

The guy glanced at the reading for a split second before motioning her in the door. She’d barely gotten inside when someone called her by name and said hi to her. She turned, and there was Cole, with his little tuft of hair sticking straight up again. 

“Hey, Cole!” she smiled. She had to yell to be heard over the music. 

“Hey, mama!” he greeted.

The pair embraced, and Cole took her by the hand. She followed him. She didn’t know anyone here but Cole and Adam, so she was officially going to cling to Cole until she got comfortable. He led her to a pair of people. She recognized Jack, who was standing a little awkwardly with a Korean girl Zoey had never seen. They both waved, and Zoey waved back.

Pretty quickly, Zoey was loosened up by Cole’s silly dancing, and she started silly-dancing right next to him. One song went by, and then another, and another. She found herself singing along to most of the music and still genuinely enjoying the tracks she didn’t know.

“Where’s Adam?” Zoey asked at one point, but Cole just laughed like she’d told a joke. That was kind of weird, but it was super loud. Maybe he’d misheard her. 

She was having fun, and she trusted Cole, so even though Adam was nowhere to be found, she stayed. Still, the whole reason she’d come out here was to see him. She pulled out her phone and shot him another text message.

 

 **Zoey** : _Where are you?_

 

* * *

 

Nate was home alone, sitting on Alvey's couch with a cherry popsicle and a half-empty yellow Gatorade. The TV was on, and he’d swaddled himself in blankets. Although he’d already taken two doses of Advil and a hot shower, he still couldn’t seem to get warm.

Things had been silent for so long, and he'd been alone pretty much all day. So when his phone started to vibrate on the coffee table with a name that made his stomach turn, he almost thought he was imagining it. He stared for several seconds but ultimately decided to pick up.

“Hello?” 

“You coming or not?” Will snapped.

“What? Where?” He wiped at the back of his nose with his hand. 

“I'm at the bar.” 

“What? What bar?” 

“The bar that you wanted to meet me at. I'm here now.” 

“I don't know what the fuck you're talking about.” 

“You texted me that you wanted to meet me!” 

“I didn't text you," Nate said, shaking his head.

“Yes, you fucking did! Check your phone.” 

“Will, I swear, I didn't text you,” Nate insisted. 

“Oh my god,” Will huffed in exasperation. “I'll send you the fucking thread then. You know what, Nate? You're a nice guy, but you're obviously very confused, and I don't have time for this in me life right now. Lose my number, please.” 

The line went dead, and Nate blinked at it. The phone buzzed in his hand a moment later with a screenshot of several text messages that appeared to be coming from Nate’s phone.

He was too sick to make much sense of it, but he knew in his gut that something was really, really wrong.

 

* * *

 

“You good to drive?” Jay asked as he walked Lisa to her SUV. 

“Yep! Licensed and everything,” she laughed. 

He pointed at her and asked more firmly, “Are you good to drive?”

“Yes, I’m fine to drive.”

They stopped at her car door and Jay held up a finger, moving it back and forth to see where Lisa’s eyes went. 

“See, I’m good,” she smirked, knowing she’d passed his little test. 

“Yeah, you’re good,” he jokingly agreed. “Get going.” 

They laughed. 

“Thank you,” Lisa said sincerely.

“For what?” 

“For making me feel normal tonight.” 

Jay sighed and leaned down a little so he could look right into her eyes. “Lisa… this is something that _happened_ to you, alright? This is not who you _are_.”

“Yeah,” she dismissed. 

He put a hand on her shoulder and then pulled her in for a hug. “I love you.”

“I love you.” 

“Drive safely, okay?” 

“You, too.” 

“I'll be fine.” 

“I mean it. I've had to pick you up from jail a _couple_ of times,” she reminded teasingly.

“Yeah. Drive safely,” he imparted again. 

Her tires squealed as she pulled far too quickly out of her parking space. Jay watched her go and then headed back into the bar. “Can I get a shot of whiskey?” he asked. Then he turned to the guy with the accent he’d noticed earlier. He looked him over for a moment and then asked, “Are you drinking alone?”

“Probably so,” he sighed. “I was supposed to meet someone. Didn't show up.”

Jay masked his emotions with a sympathetic face. He pointed to his own ear. “Uh, did I hear an accent?” 

“Yeah, English.” 

“Ahh, the United Kingdom?”

Will chuckled. “That's the one.”

“Right, yeah,” Jay smiled. “What's your name?” 

“Will.”

Holy shit. 

“Can you close me out?” Jay asked the bartender evenly. “And, uh, put Will's drinks on my tab.”

“Oh, no, no, no. Mate, I can buy me own drink. Thanks anyway.” 

“No, no, that's nonsense, really. It's... It's really nice to meet you,” he said sincerely, “and I hope you enjoy your time here in these United States of America.” 

“Cheers.” 

“God save the Queen,” Jay joked. 

“Ah, fuck the Queen,” Will smiled. 

Jay laughed. “Fuck the Queen? Get out of here. Fuck the Queen.” 

“Thanks for the drink.” 

“Yeah, man.”

As soon as he was away from the bar, Jay’s face fell. Nate… and this guy… He couldn’t stop thinking about the reply to that text message.

 _What do you want?_   Jay had written. And Will had answered, _You_.

 

* * *

 

Zoey and Cole had taken a break from the dance floor to get some soda. Apparently they didn’t serve alcohol at Sound anymore? Weird. But after what Nate had said to her that afternoon, Zoey didn’t really care. She thought briefly of Ellen and all the things she said about Jesus looking out for everyone in the most unexpected ways. Maybe it was for the best. 

“Is Adam, like, not really here?” Zoey finally asked. 

“No, he’s here,” Cole smiled, his eyes crinkling a little in confusion. “You know that. Why do you keep asking that?” 

Just then, her phone vibrated. 

 

 **Adam** : _I c u_

 

Zoey glanced around, but then her phone went off again.

 

 **Adam** : _Turn around_

 

She was about to shoot back, _What is this, a movie?_ but she decided to humor him and glance over her shoulder. 

There was no one behind her.

 

 **Adam** : _Higher_

 

Zoey snorted but turned fully around and looked up. And – there was Adam, waving at her from the DJ booth. 

She laughed and shook her head incredulously. She looked back down at her phone. _How did you get up there??_  

“Yo yo yo!” came a familiar voice over the speakers. “This is your DJ speaking.”

The crowd cheered. Zoey looked back at the booth, but Adam had disappeared from view. 

“How are you feeling tonight?”

There was lots of clapping and screaming. 

“I said _how are you feeling tonight?!”_  

The loudest yell yet went up, and Zoey looked at Cole in amazement. “Is that-?” she asked, but then she had her answer.

“I invited a beautiful girl to the club tonight, and she’s here,” Adam continued into his microphone. 

That got a huge cheer as well. A few people even whistled. Zoey blushed even though no one was looking at her.

“I know this isn’t really the type of music I usually play, but… this song goes out to her. I’m gonna find her, see if I can get a dance. You guys enjoy.” 

Zoey laughed out loud as the music started, but it was out of delight. She fucking loved [this song](https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=gAprw-wBrcc). 

Adam set his headphones on the deck, hopped down from the booth, and made his way to her with his hands tucked in his sweatshirt pocket. “Hey.”

“Hey!” she smiled. “You didn’t tell me you were DJ-ing!” 

“I know. Didn’t wanna ruin the surprise.”

There was a beat of uncomfortable silence.

“I’m overdressed,” Zoey blurted. 

“Nah, I’m underdressed. It’s part of my ‘image,’” he told her, making air quotes and slightly rolling his eyes. “You look amazing. And don’t worry, because you can never be overdressed or overeducated,” he recited.

She blinked.

“Oscar Wilde,” he said into her ear.

She’d never heard that quote before, and yet here was Adam knowing the source.

Zoey hid her face behind her curls, and Adam chuckled. “May I have this dance?” he asked, holding his hand out to her.

It all seemed a little silly, because not only was it Adam, who she considered a little goofy, but he’d asked her the way Jay always had. But as soon as she accepted his hand and his fingers found their place on her waist, she started to feel a flutter in her stomach that she’d never felt before. She squeezed her eyes shut.

After a moment, she stretched up on her toes to half-yell into his ear, “How did you know I love The Wombats?”

He pulled back and grinned at her, shaking his head. “I didn’t,” he replied honestly.

Zoey ducked her head to hide her smile.

“You’re beautiful.”

“Stop,” Zoey muttered, blushing harder.

“You _are._ ” 

She felt like she was going to burst. She bounced a little on her toes, and he laughed. 

“You good?” he checked. 

“Yeah. I just… yeah.”

“I ‘just,’ too,” Adam agreed. 

Zoey beamed down at their shoes. 

When the song ended, Adam quickly kissed her cheek and darted back up into the booth with a grin. Cole was by her side instantly, and she couldn’t help herself; she let out a giggle. 

“You liiiiike him,” Cole sang into her ear, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. 

“Shut the fuck up,” she protested. She smacked him in the chest, but she was still smiling. 

“You do! You like him!” Cole whooped and shot Adam a huge thumbs up. 

Adam shook his head and stuck his tongue out at Cole, but he was grinning.

Zoey grabbed Cole by the hand just like he’d done to her at the beginning of the night and dragged him back to the center of the packed dance floor so Adam would lose her in the crowd.

She never knew she could feel this good sober.

 

* * *

  

“Hey,” Alvey said, when Zoey flounced into the house in high heels and a dress. 

“Hi, Daddy!” she chirped, going over to hug him. The sushi lady was with him on the couch, but Zoey didn’t even care. She’d never felt so bright. She pressed a kiss to Alvey’s cheek and even said hi to Roxanne. 

“Hi,” Roxanne greeted, eyebrows raised. “You look fancy.” 

“Thaaaank you!” Zoey smiled, tugging happily on the ends of her dress.

“What are you on?” Alvey asked bluntly. 

Zoey raised her eyebrows, but her grin didn’t vanish. “Nothing. Here, smell.” She blew a breath into his face.

He wrinkled his nose as the air hit his face. “Wow, yeah. Where, uh. Where the fuck were you all dressed up and… sober?” he asked, still skeptical. 

“I had a date,” she sang, spinning in a circle as she headed for the staircase. 

“I take it it went well,” Alvey mused. 

“It did,” Zoey beamed. “He DJ-ed a sober rave, and we’re going out again tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow, huh?” Alvey asked, but he had a little smile on his lips. It was good to see her so happy.

“Tomorrow! We’re going to an art show.” 

“Huh. What kinda guy is this?”

“He’s a musician,” Zoey sighed dreamily.

Alvey laughed out loud at that one. “Of course he is.” He shook his head fondly. “I shoulda known.”

"And he goes to USC, and he's so handsome..."

Alvey chuckled again. "Wow."

“I love you, Daddy!” Zoey called as she headed up the steps to her bedroom. 

“I, uh… I love you, too, kiddo.”

Zoey giggled happily. “Nate!” she called up the stairs, picking up her pace. “Nate!”

“Holy shit,” Alvey muttered to Roxanne. “She’s like fucking Cinderella.” 

Roxanne chuckled. “You’re not wrong.” 

“And what the fuck is a sober rave?” 

“Hell if I know,” Roxanne shrugged.

The doorbell started ringing, and it didn’t stop. Whoever was on the other side of the door was pressing the bell incessantly. And then the knocking started up, too. 

“What the hell,” Alvey muttered. He was sure he’d find Jay on the other side of the door, but it wasn’t Jay. It was Lisa.

“Hey.” 

“Hi,” she replied, acting like it was totally normal for her to have rung the doorbell a hundred times. 

“It's, uh... It's kind of late. What are you doing here?” 

“Uh... I wanted to see you. Can I come in?” 

Alvey looked at her awkwardly and then glanced into the living room. 

Lisa dropped her voice to a whisper. “Oh, she's here? I want to meet her.”

“Lisa…” 

“I want to meet her.” 

Alvey sighed heavily and opened the door for her. “Come in,” he said sarcastically. “Roxanne, Lisa. Lisa...” 

“Nice to meet you,” Roxanne said politely. 

“Nice to meet you, too.”

The two women stared at each other, each one taking the other in. Roxanne, who was normally the badass, quickly withered under Lisa’s cold gaze. 

“Um, I'm gonna get my things,” Roxanne murmured, breaking eye contact and reaching for her purse.

“No, you don't have to leave,” Lisa protested. 

“No, no, it's, uh... It's okay. I know you guys have a lot to talk about, so...”

Alvey stood awkwardly as Lisa watched Roxanne go up the stairs to Alvey’s bedroom.

“I'll be in the kitchen,” Lisa murmured.

“She... is a drunk, so...” Alvey whispered to Roxanne when she came down. 

“Yeah, well, who's not?” 

“I'm sorry. Okay, I'm gonna to talk to her and tell her to leave.” 

“No. Don't do that. I'm going.” 

“Come on.”

“Come on, what?” Roxanne asked. “What? Good night.” 

The door closed, banging a little in the frame. Alvey walked into the kitchen to find Lisa in her usual place at the end of the counter. Alvey occupied the furthest seat away from her. 

“She's beautiful. How old is she?” 

“About my age.”

“Well, if she's had any work done, you can't tell.”

Alvey sighed and asked tiredly, “What is it that you want?”

“I had a question that I wanted to ask you. I was gonna call you from the hotel, but I thought, you know what, I want to see his face.”

He forced an empty smile. “What is it?” 

“Why didn't you come get me?” 

A silence hung in the air.

“What does that mean, come get you?” Alvey finally said.

“When our _baby died_ … why didn't you come get me?” 

“You didn't want me to.” 

“Are you fucking out of your mind?”

“Your father called me and said you didn't want to see me.” 

“My father?” she spat. “So fucking what?” 

“I was respecting your wishes.” 

Lisa snorted. “I'm _dying_ … and you're _respecting my wishes_?” she asked. “Did it ever occur to you… that I didn't know what the fuck I needed? That maybe what I needed… was you?” 

“Your father called me-”

“My father fucking called?!” Lisa shouted, throwing her glass across the kitchen. Alvey quickly dodged it, and it smashed loudly against the wall, shattering to pieces. “Who the fuck cares?! What about _me_?!” she screamed, getting up and lunging for Alvey. “My father?!” She smacked him hard on the shoulder and twice in the neck. 

“Don't- don't do this!” Alvey shouted, grabbing her tightly with her arms pinned to her sides. “Don't fucking hit me! Don't fucking hit me. Okay? Calm the fuck down. You're drunk. Calm down. Okay?” 

“I'm not gonna hit you,” she said softly. 

“Alright, alright.” 

“You're hurting me.”

“I'm not, I'm not hurting you,” he said, hurriedly letting go of her and putting his hands up. “I'm not hurting you. I don't want you to hurt _yourself_.” 

A silence fell between them.

“I'm gonna go to bed,” Alvey finally said. “You're going back to your hotel-” 

“I'm not done with you.” 

“Would you get the fuck out of my house, alright?” he asked, but she came at him again, hitting him harder. “Fucking stop! Fuck! Fuck! Stop! Stop! Fucking stop! Fucking stop, _stop_!”

He managed to pin her to the wall face-first despite her still trying to hurt him. “Fucking stop!” he roared when she wouldn’t cease her struggling. “STOP!” He grabbed her under the chin and pressed her hard into the wall. “Fucking crazy bitch! You're fucking crazy!”

“Yeah, I'm crazy,” she agreed, her voice slow and empty.

“Stop.”

“I'm crazy because you made me fucking crazy. I'm not even a fucking person anymore, I crawl around on the floor like an animal,” she told him, unable to stop her tears. “You _killed_ me. I fucking hate you.” Her voice broke. She whispered, “I hate you, I hate you, I hate you...”

“Okay, alright,” Alvey whispered, running a hand over her hair. “Alright.” This he could deal with. The screaming and yelling and violence, no. But the crying…

“Let me go,” she begged.

“Okay. Okay.” But he didn't.

She swallowed and forced her voice out firmly. “Let me go.”

“Stop,” he said softly. “Shh. Shh, shh, shh.” He let go of her and took two steps back. “Okay… Okay.”

She stalked out to her car, the door slamming loudly behind her.  
  
Alvey sighed and ran a hand over his face. He let his shoulders drop, and he was was just about to head toward the staircase when then there was a wet sniff from behind him. He turned. 

Zoey stood there with her hands over her mouth. She’d taken the high heels off, but she was still in her party dress. Alvey could see streaks of mascara running down her cheeks. 

“Did you see that?” Alvey asked.

She nodded.

“Oh, honey,” he said sadly. 

At the words, Zoey blinked. Two tears slid down her cheeks. 

“Here, come here,” Alvey murmured, going to her and gathering her up in his arms. “Shh, fuck, no no no… oh, you weren’t supposed to see that. I’m so sorry. You weren’t supposed to fucking see that.”

Her voice wobbled. “I just wanted to say hi to her,” she whispered. She held onto him tightly, and he stroked a hand over her hair.

“Shh… I’m so sorry, honey, I’m fucking sorry. You didn’t need to fucking see that.”

Her voice broke. “Dad…”  

Alvey squeezed her tightly. “Shh, fucking – come here. Come here.” They walked together to the couch and sat down where he and Roxanne had just been. Zoey pulled her knees up on the sofa and leaned into Alvey, who wrapped an arm around her. “I’m sorry,” he repeated as she quietly sniffed into his t-shirt.

Nate, who was still clad in sweats and wrapped in a blanket, came padding down the stairs with Abigail at his heels. Alvey figured he was there to see what had Zoey so upset. “’s wrong, Zebra?” he mumbled sleepily.

The tears had slowed on her cheeks, but she held out an arm for him.

Abigail perched in front of Zoey, guarding her closely, and Nate plopped down onto the couch next to his sister and relaxed into her, not caring that he couldn’t do anything to comfort her, not even caring that Alvey would see him so weak and vulnerable. Zoey leaned back into Alvey’s chest with Nate nestled at her side, and Alvey looked his two younger children over. They looked so grown up, but in so many ways, their souls were still children. It was hard to remember that sometimes. 

Not right now.

Nate was ill, and Zoey's bottom lip was trembling like a two-year old. Alvey sighed, smoothing a hand over his brow. 

When Zoey finally stopped and sat up a little, she let out a sad, broken laugh. “I’m sorry,” she murmured, her cheeks pink with shame. She looked down at Nate, who had fallen asleep on her shoulder.

“Nah,” Alvey dismissed. “I felt…” He was going to leave the sentence unfinished, but then he remembered that he was supposed to be helping teach her to be vulnerable with her emotions. “I felt the same fucking way,” he admitted. 

She nodded. Then she sniffed again and wiped her cheeks, but all she did was smear her smudged makeup around. 

“Here, go upstairs, get fucking cleaned up,” Alvey said. “I’ll get your brother back to bed.”

“No,” Zoey murmured. “He’ll be fucking pissed if you wake him up, and he’ll fucking never fall back to sleep. Please let him stay here.” 

Alvey looked at her sad eyes and nodded. “Alright.” She knew Nate better than he did. He’d take her at her word.

Zoey moved carefully out from under her brother and went upstairs. After a few minutes spent watching his resting son, Alvey checked the locks, turned off the lights, and did the same. He could hear his daughter in her bedroom sniffling again, so he cracked the door open to look in. She was in her bed now, her dress a rumpled heap on the floor. She had on a blue tank top and was hugging an old teddy bear close to her chest. 

“Zo,” Alvey murmured.

She had to have heard him, but she didn’t stop her crying or look up.

He stood in the doorway for a few more seconds. “Love you, kid,” he said quietly. “Come get me if you need me.”

He closed her door behind himself and went back to his room. He shut his own door, too, trying to tune out the sounds of his daughter crying herself to sleep. 


	28. Chapter 28

Jay had such a hard time with the rest of that night that he could only access bits and pieces of it in his memory. This is how he remembered it. 

He drove back to the motel to find a sea of flashing lights and cop cars. It was bright enough that, for a moment, he was too blind to see the parking spaces in the glow of his headlights. He knew in his gut that something was wrong, so he parked and quickly got out of the car. 

The motel door next to his was flung open and blocked off with caution tape. He could see streaks of red swiped across the paint like blood from fast-moving fingers. He swallowed and tried to keep his mind from jumping to the worst conclusions, but after what had happened to Zoey the year before, it was hard not to. 

With shaking hands, he unlocked his door. The lights were still off, and everything was exactly as he'd left it. No Ava. 

Jay went back out, passed all the cops and EMTs and detectives, and ducked under the caution tape. Someone was calling after him and trying to tell him that he couldn’t keep walking toward the pool, but he didn’t listen. It was as if he had a rope tied around his middle that was dragging him closer. He didn’t want to see what all the people were looking down at, but he had to. 

Flashes from a camera were lighting up the empty swimming pool like lightning. Plastic, yellow cards with numbers on them had been placed on the floor. Jay had only ever seen those on CSI and Criminal Minds. There was a quick mumbling, and then several men shuffled quickly toward Jay, trying to block his view. But they were too late. He saw what was lying on the bottom of the pool.

His stomach seized up at the sight of the blood. And then his eyes zeroed in on her…

Ava.

She wasn’t moving.

His mouth dropped open. He fell to his knees. 

He lost time after that. 

The next thing Jay remembered was Alicia’s screams shattering the silence. Probably fifteen minutes had passed at that point since Jay got there. It took Ryan and an investigator to hold Alicia back from her sister.

Alicia came at Jay when she realized they wouldn’t let her jump into the pool after Ava. She was crying inconsolably, and she smashed her hands into Jay’s shoulder, shoving him several feet.

He was so out of it that it didn’t even occur to him to look at her. All he could see was Ava, Ava, Ava, cracked open and bleeding. Dead.

He could sort of remember a detective recounting what had happened – the bastard that did this had fucking turned himself in – but it was Ava's blood and limp, lifeless body that would stick out in his memory.

Finally, Ryan found his way to Jay. He wrapped his arms around Jay from behind and held him close while Jay shakily lit a cigarette. “I called your dad,” Ryan murmured to him. “He’s on his way. He’s gonna take you home.” 

“No,” Jay moaned.

“Shh, I know. I know. But you can’t sleep here tonight, man.” 

“No,” he begged again.

“I know,” Ryan soothed. 

“I didn’t mean t-” Jay started, but Ryan cut him off. 

“It’s not your fault, Jay.” He turned Jay around in his grasp. “Look at me. Jay, look at me.” 

Jay finally obeyed. 

“It’s not your fault.”

Jay stared at his best friend for a long moment. He nodded slowly and then faster. He didn’t believe it, but he wanted to. God help him, he wanted to.

Ryan tugged him forward for a hug, and Jay sagged into him. 

“I got you,” Ryan whispered. “I’m not going anywhere.” 

Jay just kept nodding.

 

* * *

  

Alvey peeled into the parking lot and parked next to Jay's truck. He rushed back to where the bulk of the activity seemed to be. 

Alicia was sitting in a chair bawling her eyes out, and Ryan and Jay were off to the side, not talking. Ryan had his arm protectively around Jay, whose eyes had glazed over staring at Ava’s dead body. 

“Boys,” Alvey called, jogging up to them. 

Ryan looked, but Jay didn’t. “Hey,” Ryan said thankfully.

“Boys,” Alvey repeated, pulling each of them into one of his arms. Ryan hugged him tightly. Jay just stood there. 

Alvey let go of Ryan and put both of his arms around his son. Jay remained still and silent, but Ryan led Alvey to a detective who explained the night’s previous events.

“Suspect's name is James Gibson,” he said. “He was released from prison six months ago after doing 25 years for the rape and murder of a Lake Elsinor woman. He offered Miss Flores some cocaine, and she followed him into his room. At some point, he demanded sex, which she refused. There was a struggle. At that time, he stabbed her in the stomach. She was able to escape from the room, and the suspect chased her down, strangled her, and threw her in the swimming pool.” 

“Holy fuck,” Alvey muttered.

The guy nodded in agreement. 

“Well, uh, thank you. For – for your… service.” 

“Of course.” 

“Is it…” Alvey motioned to Jay. “Is it okay if I take my son home?” 

“Yes. He’s not a suspect or a witness. He’s free to go.” 

Alvey nodded. “Alright. Thanks.” He walked up to Jay and put a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Let’s get you the fuck out of here, yeah?” 

Jay let Alvey lead him to his car without complaint.

  

* * *

 

 

Zoey had already cried herself to sleep before Alvey had gone to get Jay, and Nate was still sound asleep on the couch, so Alvey led Jay up to Nate’s bedroom and helped him get under the covers. 

“Get some sleep, okay?” 

Jay tried to nod. 

Surprisingly, sleep came easily.

 

* * *

 

“Pop music is criminally underrated,” Adam declared the next morning. 

Zoey snorted a laugh. “Criminally?” she echoed.

“Yes!”

“I don’t know about that…” 

She’d taken an Uber to USC, and she and Adam were walking a few blocks to the art show Adam had wanted to see. Zoey was in her more normal attire, just Vans, jean shorts, and a tank top (with a light cardigan over her arms, of course), and Adam had on swim trunks and a Backstreet Boys World Tour t-shirt.

“It really is. Everyone thinks it's 'cool' not to like pop, but, I mean, think about it – what songs do people remember the most from the 80s? The 90s?” 

“Grunge rock,” Zoey supplied.

“Maybe some people,” Adam nodded, “but mostly you’d probably hear about Britney Spears, NSYNC, Madonna, Duran Duran… Whip It…” He started to hum and even dance a little as they walked. “When a problem comes along, you must whip it," he quietly sang. "Before the cream sits out too long… you must whip it...”

She glanced at him, but he was paying her no mind.

His volume was growing. As were his karate chop-like movements and the height on his jumps. “Now whip it! Into shape! Shape it up! Get straight!” He’d ceased moving forward and was just dancing enthusiastically.

Freely. 

 _Badly_. 

Zoey laughed as she watched. She got the feeling that he wasn’t doing this for her benefit or entertainment; this was just how Adam was. 

“Go forward! Move ahead! Try to detect it! It’s not too late! To whip it! Whip it good!” He stopped hopping around and took a deep breath, resuming walking. “Whew. Sorry. Just had to get that out.”

“Just had to _whip it_?” she intoned. 

“Exactly,” he playfully grinned.

She laughed at him again and shook her head. “You're fucking weird."

He shrugged, completely unaffected by her comment.

"Okay, but back to the 90s – what about, like, Green Day?” 

“Now, Green Day had a specific set of fans,” Adam replied, falling back into step with her. “It wasn’t until American Idiot was released in ‘03 that they shifted more toward mainstream. They even won a Grammy. But think about it – as soon as they released the next album, they fell back into the rock crowd and out of the spotlight.” 

“So how do you feel about 21st Century Breakdown, then?” 

“Oh, that’s their best album,” he answered easily.

Zoey raised her eyebrows.

“It’s a much better rock opera than American Idiot, if that’s what you’re asking. The story of Christian and Gloria is beautiful. And relatable. It could have happened to any of us.”

“I thought it was kind of stupid,” Zoey admitted, watching their shadows on the pavement. “I only listened to it once.”

“Well, what’s your favorite Green Day album, then?” 

“The one from ’94.” 

“Ah. Okay, I see, I see. Did you grow up on it?” 

She nodded. 

“Yeah. There was a major shift in their style after Shenanigans came out in 2002. They matured a lot, and I think a lot of the people that liked their earlier sound weren’t into the new stuff.”

Zoey smirked. “Like full albums about politicians being fucking monsters and the goddamn Twin Towers falling down?”

“They are, and they did." 

“So, you like Green Day and this… rock opera… thing.” 

“Well, I won’t say I dislike it, but… while it’s an amazing genre, it’s not really my thing. And Green Day is okay.”

She smiled incredulously. “Just ‘okay’ and you know all this?” 

He shrugged. 

“So… of everything, you like pop music the most?”

“Yes. But rock opera is amazing and honestly incredible. It’s art. Have you heard of Ayreon?”

“No?”

He got a light in his eyes at her answer. “They did this album called The Human Equation that’s about the experience of a coma patient,” he said quickly. He started moving his hands as he spoke. “The guy can hear his wife and his best friend and his doctors at his bedside. Every song represents a different day in his coma. It’s…” Adam shook his head, unable to find words. “I’ll burn it onto a CD for you.” 

“Cool.” She smirked as something occurring to her. “So, wait. Since you love pop music so much, does that mean you like One Direction and Justin Bieber?” she teased.

Of course, he had a completely straight answer for her. “Uh, One Direction, not so much. I appreciate them as a cultural phenomenon, but I’m not personally into them, no. They have a handful of good songs, don't get me wrong. But they're just not really for me. And I _love_ Justin Bieber,” Adam nodded.

Zoey laughed out loud then. “Are you a Belieber?”  

“No, I wouldn’t go that far,” Adam chuckled. “But his voice is undeniably incredible. And, I mean, with the release of Purpose, everything changed, at least in reference to the critical reception of him.” 

Zoey shook her head in disbelief. No wonder this kid got into USC. He had all this knowledge, but he wasn’t pretentious or arrogant about it. Just conversational. And passionate. 

“I mean, I’ve been a fan since 2009 when he started getting radio play,” Adam continued. “I just didn’t know he could write half as well as the stuff on his new album.” 

Zoey put her hand over her heart and dramatically quoted, “Is it too late now to say sorry?”

“Hey,” he protested, pointing at her, “Sorry is a masterpiece in its own way.” 

She laughed again. 

“Just – listen to Life Is Worth Living, and then we’ll talk.” Adam motioned up ahead. “Hey, there it is.” 

They walked together to a blank white gallery with nothing on the outside of the building but a street number. Inside, it was just as plain. Hardwood floors and more blank white walls, and all that was inside were spaced out paintings and sculptures.

“Oh my gosh,” Adam breathed. He went straight for one of them and shook hands with the guy standing in front of it. “I’ve been looking for you!” he softly exclaimed. “I saw this online, and I wanted to put an offer down.” 

The guy grinned. “Thanks, man, that’s so nice to hear.” He motioned to a clipboard on the table beside him. “Be my guest.” 

“It looks even better in person, dude. I didn’t realize you used such a big canvas.”

“Thank you,” the guy repeated happily. 

“Damn,” Adam muttered under his breath as he glanced at the sheet. He snagged a pen and leaned down to the piece of paper. Then he looked back up and stared hard at the painting. 

“Might as well write the check now, dude,” the guy smirked as he watched Adam place his bid.

As if it had just dawned on him, Adam suddenly looked up and said, “Oh – uh, Trent, this is Zoey. Zoey, this is my friend Trent. He’s the artist.”

“Oh, wow, hi,” Zoey smiled. She quickly pushed her sleeves down before she shook his hand. The cuffs had barely ridden up a few centimeters, but it wasn’t worth it to be exposed. Better safe than sorry. 

“Girlfriend?” Trent asked Adam.

“Not yet,” Adam replied, not looking up from where he was scribbling on his check.

Zoey bit her lip to conceal a smile. 

“You take her to a gig?” Trent asked. 

“Last night, yeah.” 

“Ah.” Trent turned to Zoey. He said knowingly, “All the ladies love DJ Danger.” 

“Shut up, or I’m not gonna buy your painting.” 

“Yeah, you will,” Trent teased. 

Adam sighed. “Yeah… I probably will.” Adam tore the check out of the book and made a quick note on the register.

Zoey’s stomach dropped. That was a hell of a lot of zeroes behind a four. And for a _painting._ “Are you fucking insane?!” she demanded before she could stop herself.

A few of the people in the quiet gallery turned to stare at her.

“He is,” Trent nodded as Adam replied, “No?”

She dropped her voice to a hiss. “That is _so much money_.” 

“Oh,” Adam laughed awkwardly. “I’m, uh. I’m sort of a… collector.” 

“He blows all his money on art,” Trent quickly supplied. 

Adam nodded and threw him a thankful glance. 

“Riiight,” Zoey said slowly. She shook her head. The number on the check made her dizzy. Even with Bob and all the money he’d given her, she couldn’t imagine dropping four grand on a painting. Although she supposed she’d spent more than that on a dress… not by personal choice, though.

While Adam finished up with his artist friend, Zoey peeked at her phone. She paled as she read her notifications. She had one missed call from Dad, three from Nate, and a text. She unlocked her phone and opened Nate's message. _Call me ASAP,_ it read. _Emergency._  

“I’m so sorry,” Zoey murmured, putting a hand on Adam’s elbow to get his attention. She barely glanced up from her phone. “I just – my brother…” 

“What?” 

“I don’t know,” she admitted worriedly. “My brother texted me like half an hour ago and told me to call him. He said there was an emergency, but I didn’t fucking see it.” She shakily tucked her hair behind her ear. “I – I’m gonna go outside really quick.” 

Adam nodded fervently. “No, of course." He looked sincerely concerned, but Zoey was too afraid of what Nate would say to notice that Adam cared. 

She ducked out of the gallery and called Nate immediately. He picked up on the second ring. 

“Hey,” he said breathlessly. “Where are you?” 

“I’m on La Cienega,” she answered. “I’m sorry, I just saw your message. What’s wrong?”

“You need to come home.”

“I’m out right now, and-” 

“This is a big fucking deal. I’m… we haven’t had anything like this happen, okay? Not ever.” 

She shifted nervously. “Well, what is it?” 

“I don’t want to tell you over the phone. You need to get home.” 

“Did somebody die?” she asked. 

Nate was silent. 

A lump formed in Zoey’s throat. “Where’s Jay?” she whimpered, tears stinging his eyes. “Where’s Jay?” Zoey swallowed and tried to be brave.

Adam came outside just in time to hear Zoey demand, “Is he dead?” His mouth dropped partway open. 

“Ze-” 

“Please, just tell me. Is he dead?”

“No.” 

“You swear to fucking god?” Zoey asked, a little hysterical.

“I swear to fucking god,” Nate replied. Zoey could practically hear him nodding. “Jay is alive. He’s alive.”

She could tell he was being honest. “And Ry and Lisa? Are they okay?”

“They’re safe. They’re fucking fine, alright? Just come home. We need you home.”

“What about Dad?”

“Zoey,” Nate warned. “No more fucking questions. Dad’s fine, okay? Just get your ass home. I need you.” 

Zoey looked apologetically at Adam, but he’d clearly heard both ends of the discussion – the street was fairly quiet, and Zoey’s volume was set on high. 

“I’ll get you a car,” Adam murmured, already typing.

Zoey nodded. “What’s wrong?” she begged into the phone again.

Nate ignored her question. “How fast can you get here?” 

“I don’t know… twenty minutes?” she guessed. 

“Alright. I’ll see you then.” The line went dead. 

Zoey looked down at her phone and shakily slid it into her pocket. She rubbed her sweaty palms over the front of her shorts.

“Okay, I got you an Uber,” Adam told her a moment later. “It’ll be here in three minutes.” 

“Can we get some water or something?” she asked him. She couldn’t bear to stand still for even two minutes while she waited to hear what terrible thing had happened now. Her family had been through so much. 

“Yeah, of course. Here, I’ll show you where.” 

Adam held the gallery door open for her and then led her to the back of the room and down a short hall where he ducked through a doorway. He came back a moment later with a chilled water bottle. She cracked it open, sipped it slowly, and took several moments to try to slow her heartbeat before she spoke. 

“I’m really sorry,” she regretfully sighed. “I was having so much fun with you.” 

“Don’t even worry about it. We’ll pick up another time, okay?” 

“Yeah,” she agreed, forcing some cheer into her voice. “I want to hear your opinion on blink-182.” 

Adam chuckled. “I do have a lot of thoughts about them,” he confirmed. His phone pinged, and he glanced at the window. “Car’s here,” he stated. He walked her out to the curb and opened the door for her. “Text me when you can and let me know you get home okay.”

She nodded. 

“I’ll be here if you need me. I have class at 2, but I’m free after 4.” 

“Okay.”

“Okay. Bye. And… good luck. I hope everything’s okay.” 

She gave him a nervous smile. “Me, too.” 

He gave one back and closed the car door. Zoey gave Alvey’s address to the girl in the front seat, who promptly started driving. Meanwhile, Adam slid his hands in the pockets of his swim trunks and stared after the car until it disappeared around the corner.

 

* * *

 

Sun was streaming into the house when the Uber dropped Zoey off. It was bright now that it was about lunchtime, and the light shone freely through Alvey’s glass windows. 

When Zoey opened the door, Abby wasn’t there to greet her. She closed and locked the door behind her, and once she stopped moving, she noticed that there was an awful choking sound coming from somewhere upstairs. She’d never heard anything like it.

“Hey,” came a voice. 

“Dad,” she replied, relieved.

The father and daughter embraced.

“What the fuck is going on?” 

Alvey sighed. “Come here.” He led her to the patio and closed the door behind them so that the dreadful noise stopped. He pointed to the table and chairs.

“Nate wouldn’t tell me anything,” she told him, taking a seat. Alvey sat down across from her. “He just kept telling me I needed to come here right away. So now I’m here.”

“I don’t know how the fuck to tell you this,” he sighed. “Just… Listen, Zo… You know Alicia’s sister Ava?” 

Zoey snorted. “Yeah, that slut Jay’s been shooting dope with at the motel?” 

“Uh, yeah,” Alvey replied uncomfortably. He rubbed at the back of his neck. “She, uh. She was murdered last night.”

Zoey’s eyebrows shot up. “What?!” 

“She was… I guess there was a guy staying next door to the room she and Jay were in, and Jay went out. The guy got Ava alone, and…”

“And what?” she asked darkly. 

Alvey sighed. 

“Did Jay see?” she demanded.

“He didn’t see it happen, but he, uh.” He nodded in confirmation. “He saw after.” 

“Tell me, then,” Zoey commanded. 

“Ava went in the guy’s room cause he told her he had drugs. Which he did. But he wasn’t gonna fucking give them to her unless she…” He waved a hand in the air and Zoey nodded, understanding. Alvey continued. “He, uh… he stabbed her a bunch of fucking times.”

Zoey’s hand went up to cover her mouth.

“I guess she, uh, got away from the cunt and started fucking running. Then he… he strangled her and pushed her into the empty swimming pool. And she cracked her fucking head on the bottom.” 

“And Jay saw her?” she whispered. 

“Yeah, kiddo. Jay saw her.”

Zoey silently rose from her chair and opened the door. She followed the sounds of the choked crying up the stairs and into Nate’s bedroom. There was Jay, lying on Nate’s bed and sobbing. 

Nate was behind him, tucked closely against his back with his arm around him and his nose pressed into Jay’s hair, just listening to him cry. Abigail had taken a place on the floor next to the bed. Nate and Abby both looked up when Zoey entered, but Jay didn’t. Abby gently wagged her tail, and Nate gave Zoey a solemn nod. 

Zoey slid her shoes off and climbed onto the bed in front of Jay. She kissed his hair, and when she pulled back, his puffy, bloodshot eyes were open. He looked absolutely horrible. 

“Zee… my girl,” Jay whispered. His breath hitched as he cried. He held out an arm for her. “I’m so sorry.” 

“I’m sorry, too,” she replied sadly, lying down by his side and hugging him tightly. “I don’t hate you. I just miss you.”

“I miss you, too.” He burst into tears all over again. “Zee, she’s _dead_ ,” he groaned. “He killed her. She’s dead.” 

“I know… Dad told me. I’m so sorry, Jay.” 

“She’s dead. She’s dead.” 

A hand found Zoey’s behind Jay’s back. Nate. Zoey squeezed it hard, and Nate squeezed back the same way. 

They laid there until Jay fell asleep.

 

* * *

 

While Zoey sat at the counter and started eating her lunch, she typed and deleted text message after text message. Finally, she just gave up and sent one.

 **Zoey** : _Hey. So sorry about earlier. My family is okay but things are going to be fucking crazy here for a while. I think now isn’t a good time for me to be hanging out a lot with other people. I’m so sorry but I really don’t want to drag you into all this personal shit._

Adam called, but Zoey pressed ignore. 

“I thought he was never gonna pass out,” Nate sighed as he came into the kitchen. 

Zoey flipped her phone over and slid it a few inches away. “Yeah,” she muttered absently. 

“Dad said he barely got any sleep last night. He was in shock. I guess Ryan almost took him down to the hospital, but Dad talked him out of it.”

Zoey stared emptily down at her plate. 

“Zebra,” Nate murmured. 

She didn’t hear him. She was busy thinking about Ava’s bloody body on the concrete… and what Jay must have felt like when he saw it there… and how awful last night must have been for Ryan, who not only was taking care of Jay but was also trying to help Alicia.

Holy fuck.

She should text him to make sure he was okay.

Then, before she could stop it, her mind wandered to what Nate must have gone through when he’d found her bleeding out on the floor. She stood abruptly and went to him, pulling him down to her level and wrapping her arms around his neck. 

“Zebra-” 

“I’m fucking sorry you found me,” she whispered. “I thought it would be Dad. You said you were going out.” 

Nate stood stock still for several seconds, but then he slowly wrapped his arms behind her back. 

“I didn’t want to make you go to therapy because of me, and I didn’t want you to stay awake for days in the hospital with me,” she said sadly. “I’m sorry, Nate. I didn’t mean to scare you like that. It was supposed to be Dad, and I wasn’t supposed to be alive. And I couldn’t think straight. I couldn’t fucking take it anymore. I just wanted it to fucking stop…” 

“I know,” he murmured. He rested his forehead on her shoulder.

“I feel so stupid,” she confessed into his neck. 

“Why?” 

“Because. I tried to die. I really, really, genuinely fucking _wanted_ to die. And she… she got…” 

Nate nodded.

“My life seemed so trivial,” she murmured, more to herself than to Nate. 

Alvey came into the kitchen. “You two doing okay?” he asked. 

The twins quickly broke apart. Zoey resumed staring at her lunch, and Nate went back to the counter to finish making his. 

No one spoke.

 


	29. Chapter 29

Since Jay never wanted to train anymore, Nate threw himself into working at Bobby’s. He was becoming sort of friends with Dean, who was a lot like Jay in some ways and the polar opposite of him in others. Either way, he was good company, especially when Nate’s thoughts were getting a little dark. Dean was very distracting. 

He taught Nate how engines worked, where break lines were, how to do an oil change, and everything he ever needed to know about classic rock. By the end of the second week, Bobby said that Nate could change tires faster than anyone who had ever worked for him. And Nate hadn’t even been shooting for speed. He was just doing his job. 

Nate and Dean made a good team, working efficiently but also staying laid back. There was always a steady flow of cars coming in (and a steady flow of alcohol being consumed), but it was never overwhelmingly busy, and the pay wasn’t bad. The life experience was even more valuable. (And maybe one day Dean had taught Nate a little something about hot-wiring…) 

Nate found himself coming into work more and more, but there was something else he wanted to do. Felt like he _needed_ to do. He found Mac at the gym one afternoon and asked to talk to him outside. 

“I need some help,” he admitted. 

“Look, Nate, I’m not doing that again, okay? That was a one-time thing. You’re healed now, and-” 

“No, it’s not about hormones.”

“Well, I’m not giving you anything else either. Alright? And I fucking mean it this time,” he emphasized, pointing a finger at Nate’s face. “I’m fucking done giving your family drugs. All of you. I can’t just-” 

“ _Mac._ It’s not fucking that.” 

“Well then what?”

“I, uh,” Nate muttered awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I was wondering if you could help me get in contact with some people.”

Mac tilted his head. “Like who?”

  

* * *

 

  

Zoey started frequenting Bob’s dinners and social events. He was out every few nights, and wherever he went, Zoey followed. It was easy money – and a fucking ton of it. Some of her experiences were so insane or funny or just plain amazing that it was hard not to talk about them, but for the most part, it was easy to keep quiet. 

The dresses and shoes at the back of her closet were one thing. But five, ten, fifteen, twenty grand… now that wasn’t so easy to keep hidden. She was going to have to do something about all this money, and fast.

Will was still her white knight in all of this. Every time Bob grabbed her ass or got too drunk or smiled at her weird, she knew Will was always around somewhere making sure nothing went too far. She knew it was bad, but she’d almost started to think of Will as a friend. They only ever talked about work, but he was so kind to her, and he seemed to genuinely care about her wellbeing. With her distance from everyone but Nate, that had become rare. Special. Something that she craved.

Zoey’s stitches had been out for an entire month, and her scars weren’t half as jarring as they used to be. They’d smoothed over quite a bit and deflated from the puffy, puckered wounds to flat scars. They were dark pink, not red anymore; that was the biggest improvement. Zoey still wasn’t anywhere near comfortable showing her skin in public, but when she was at home, she could wear tank tops and t-shirts without feeling self-conscious. 

She hadn’t seen much of Jay after that first day after Ava. Nate hadn’t either. Jay had gone back to the motel, and he didn't come back out. His siblings worried about him, but the more they pressed, the worse he got. So, for the most part, they let him be. Zoey took his silence and distance personally, but Nate knew better. He dropped in every now and then to make sure his big brother was still breathing even though Jay begged him to stop coming by. The rematch with Ryan was coming up soon, and that’s all Jay would discuss when Nate invaded his space. It was the only thing he could mention without bursting into tears.

Almost immediately after Ava died, Alicia packed up and left. Venice was too painful for her. She couldn’t look at Jay anymore, and she couldn’t see Ryan or Alvey without thinking of Jay, so to Albuquerque it was. She’d throw herself into training with Greg Jackson and Mike Wink and forget all about Los Angeles.

With Alicia's departure, Keith returned back to his normal self – or as normal as normal could be. No more hammers. Less of a tight grip on Ryan. And it worked out, because all Ryan was doing was training with Alvey and coming home to Keith.

Zoey still met up with Sky for a messy makeout session or a quick fuck, but Sky always seemed disappointed when Zoey left. Zoey had started to feel a little queasy in her stomach whenever she thought about it for too long; she was being kind of a bitch leading Sky on over and over when she had no real intentions of following through on anything. The way she felt about Adam was nothing like the way she felt about Sky. She thought about Adam every day. She barely thought about Sky. 

But Sky was training with Alvey, and she was getting better. He’d given her a fighter nickname – Nate was the one that came up with it, actually. Stone Cold Sky Caylor. Sky had grinned when she heard it. It was the first time Alvey had ever seen her smile. 

And Alvey… Alvey.

Alvey was watching his family and not intervening. He just stood there and looked at them all as they moved and changed and suffered. But he didn’t lift a goddamn finger.

 

* * *

 

 

“Can I help you?”

“I, uh... I'm here to pick up a gun,” Alvey said to the cop behind the desk. 

“Yeah. I need a picture ID, nine-digit report number, and the name of the officer that authorized the release.” 

“Name of the officer is, uh, Detective Poole, and, yeah, the number's right there.” He pointed at his piece of paper.

“Okay.”

“And here's my I.D.” 

“Alright. Need that wrapped?” 

“No, I brought a case.”

“Okay. One moment.” 

“Yeah.”

The officer brought back the gun and looked at it. He reported, “Sig Sauer, unloaded. No rounds in the mag.” 

Alvey nodded.

“Anything else?” 

“I think that'll do it.” He started to leave, but then he turned back around. “Oh, actually, I do have a question for you – what do they do with the unclaimed bodies?” 

“Oh, that would be, uh… Decedent Affairs.” 

“Where's that at?”

“Boyle Heights. I'll write down the address.”

 

* * *

 

“What was in that box?” Ryan asked an hour later. He and Alvey were sitting in the sauna, sweating out water weight before Ryan’s weigh-in that night. The fight with Jay was the next day.

“Huh?”

“You had a box when you came in.” 

“Oh, the box,” Alvey nodded. He crossed his arms over his chest. “That box was what remains of my friend Sean Chapas.” 

Ryan’s eyebrows shot up.

“It's a true story. I claimed his body this morning. He's got no fucking family.”

“Shit,” Ryan muttered. “Sorry.”

“Yeah,” Alvey replied, waving him off. “Cost me four hundred bucks. I mean, they couldn't get rid of him, but they charged _me_ four hundred bucks. Fucking government.” He shook his head. “I almost left him there.” 

Ryan nodded knowingly. 

“Now his entire existence fits into a plastic box… Could you imagine that? ‘Chapas. Male. Latino’. That's it. That's it, that's all there was.” 

“I cremated my father,” Ryan offered.

“Where is he?”

“Mom has him. On the mantel, like a pet.” 

“What the fuck else are you gonna do with him, right?” Alvey chuckled. 

“Storage unit,” Ryan deadpanned. “What about you?”

“What?”

Ryan shrugged. “Do you want to be buried or cremated?”

“No, brother. Haven't you heard? I'm never gonna die,” he grinned. “But if I do, I want you to stuff my body and put it in the corner of the gym. Truthfully.” 

Ryan let out a laugh. “Nice.”

“I'm counting on you, man, cause my fucking kids will leave me in the morgue.”

“I got you, man,” Ryan assured. “We'll pose you up nice, you know? Make you look fucking proud.”

Alvey nodded again. “Yeah, I like that. Like a fucking Spartan.” He flexed his biceps, and Ryan grinned.

 

* * *

 

 

“Hey, fucker!” Lisa called, stalking up to Garo. “You have to pay him more than Ryan.” 

“Sorry. Jay agreed to everything. The deal is closed.”

“Okay, well, then re-open the deal.” 

“Forget it,” Garo laughed. 

“Re-open the deal and pay my fighter what he's worth.” 

“And how do I know he's gonna show up?” 

“He'll be here!” 

“How do I know, Lisa? I'm losing my mind. I don't even know if the guy's in shape! He won't even do any press.” 

“Okay, for fucking obvious reasons.”

“I know, I know. I feel terrible about his girlfriend, but let's not play that card, okay? Let's... Let's have some dignity. A girl lost her life. That's a tragedy. That's not leverage.” 

“Jesus, you're right,” Lisa muttered softly.

“We all care about Jay.” 

“I know,” she agreed, nodding like she was thinking hard. After a pause, she said, “I don't think he should fight.” 

“What do you mean”

“I mean, we're gonna lock him in a cage and put cameras in his face after everything he's been through? That's barbaric.” 

“You're fucking ruthless,” Garo sighed. 

“No, you know what?” Lisa continued. “I don't think he's in the right frame of mind to fight. I'm gonna pull him.” She stared to leave. “Scratch the whole card.”

“Okay!” Garo groaned. “Okay! What do you want?” 

She turned back around. “Another 5 grand.” 

He scoffed. “Two.” 

“Thirty-five.” 

“Twenty-five,” Garo said, walking toward her. 

“Thirty-five.” 

“Thirty.” 

“Thirty-five,” she insisted cooly.

“Thirty-four?”

She just stared at him. 

“O- _kay_ , thirty-five.” 

Lisa smiled and patted his chest. “It’s always a pleasure.” 

“If he doesn’t make weight,” Garo called after her, “I want it back!”

 

* * *

 

Jay laid in sweats, curled up in a chair by the pool. He stared down at the bloodstain on the concrete. He hadn’t spoken to a soul in nearly three days, so he was starting to understand his sister a bit better. 

God, depression sucked.

It really, _really_ sucked. 

To think, he thought he knew what it felt like before. At least then he could eat and talk and laugh and shoot up and take fucking showers… All he could do now was lie there and think about the same three or four things every fucking day. It had been weeks, and Jay was just… motionless. Directionless. Silent, though his brain was loud. He was still working on mulling everything over, but nothing was getting clearer or easier. Just… farther away. It felt like a million years had passed. It felt like two days. 

His cell phone started ringing – Lisa or Nate, no doubt. Maybe Zoey. Jay didn’t even bother to look at the screen. He picked up the phone and fired it into the pool, where it clattered across the concrete. It pissed him off to no end that it kept ringing.

 

* * *

 

“My father hated fighting,” Ryan muttered in the sauna. “He said it was mindless, godless violence that only a lobotomized rhesus monkey could appreciate.” 

Alvey snorted. “He wasn't wrong.”

“How old were you when your dad died?”

“Twenty-two.” 

“Hmm."

“I didn't find out till I was twenty-four.” 

“You didn't find out for two years?” Ryan asked incredulously.

“Year and a half,” Alvey corrected. “I was in Japan. We never really fucking talked to each other.”

Ryan shook his head. “Still, two years is fucked up.” 

“Yeah, well, the man was a stranger to me.”

“Mine, too,” Ryan admitted. 

“What? The fuck you talking about? Your father never missed anything.”

“I didn't know shit about my dad. He... He never talked about himself. He just... He was just pissed off or quiet. My whole life, I was afraid of him.” 

“Was he around?” Alvey asked. 

“Yeah.” 

Alvey nodded. “Yeah. You have a roof over your head?”

“Yeah.”

“Hmm. He ever hit your mother?”

“No,” Ryan rushed out. “Never.”

“He was tough on you.”

“Yeah. Fuck yeah.” 

“Cause you needed it, yeah?” 

“Absolutely.” 

Alvey closed his eyes, thinking a little about his own kids and wondering if they felt the same way Ryan did. “He loved you,” Alvey said simply. “That's all you need to know.”

 

* * *

 

 

Christina was sitting in the little garden she’d built when Nate walked up. She squinted up at him from under her sunglasses. “Hey.”

“Hey.” 

“Do you like cilantro?” 

“No,” Nate replied shortly. 

“Good to know,” she said flatly. She scratched at her cheek with her gardening gloves. “I thought you and Jay were cutting weight today.”  
  
“Yeah, I thought so, too. But he doesn't want me there. So me and Zebra are just gonna meet him at the weigh-in.” 

“How'd he sound?” 

Nate glanced away. “Tired.” 

“I can't believe he's going through with this fight.” 

“Are you gonna go?” Nate checked.

“He doesn't want me there," she said, parroting the words he'd just spoken.

“It doesn't matter what he wants. You need to be there.” 

“Yeah, well... he knows where to find me if he needs me.” 

“Okay, I don't care whose fault any of this is at this point,” Nate snapped. “You guys just need to work your shit out. He needs to come home.”

“I don't even know why he's mad at me anymore,” she said helplessly. 

“ _Ask_ him,” Nate urged. At her skeptical look, he added, “It would help.”

Christina sighed and glanced at her gloves. “Maybe.” She softly cleared her throat. “How’s… your sister… doing?”

Nate looked at her evenly.

“Is she still living at your dad’s house?”

“Yep.”

“And is she…”

“Is she what?”

“Is she still hurting herself?”

Nate’s shoulders dropped. He quietly admitted, “I don’t know.”

 

* * *

 

Alvey was lying in his office with a cool compress over his eyes when someone knocked on the door. “Come in,” he groaned. 

“It’s me,” Shelby said when she saw Alvey’s eyes covered. 

“What the fuck do you want, Shelby?” 

“Uh, there's a woman named Roxanne here to see you.” 

Alvey lifted the compress and raised an eyebrow.

“Want me to tell her to fuck off?” Shelby guessed. 

“No – no. Don't tell her to fuck off. Get me some aspirin?”

She nodded. “Sure.” 

He pointed at the door. “Shut that. Thanks.” As soon as he was alone, he muttered, “Oh, fuck.” He got to his feet and headed out to the lobby. “Hey.”

“Hey. Lisa's not here, is she? Her space was empty.”

“No, no, she's out. You want to, uh... You want to go in my office?”

“Uh, you know, I just... I think I'd rather just talk outside.” 

Alvey led her out and pointed at the old couch. Now in addition to the layers of dust and sweat, it was also covered in dog hair. Thanks, Zoey. “You want to sit down? It's actually not as bad as it looks.” 

Roxanne scoffed, seeing right through him. “Yeah, uh, no. I'm... I'm not gonna be here long.”

Alvey sighed. “You come to put a bullet in my head?” he asked knowingly.

“Pretty much,” she nodded. 

“Fuck.”

“Yeah. I've been saying that all week.” 

“Look, I know this is complicated. I do. Shit's gonna settle down.”

“Alvey.” 

“What?”

“I'm done.”

“I'm not.” 

She sighed. “You know what? Sometimes you just... you’ve got to admit defeat.”

“Look, you make me happy, okay? You're... You're kind of the only thing I look forward to.” 

“Well, that's not good.” 

He huffed.

“Y-You know, you hardly even know me, and the more I know about you... it's just one thing after another, and it's just... it just fucking should not be this hard.”

“What does that mean? 

“Your son is a heroin addict. I saw your daughter bleeding out on the floor after she slit her fucking wrists… and you – you’re an alcoholic, Alvey. You take things out on me, and it’s not fair.” 

“What, so you just quit?” 

“Yeah. I'm not gonna beat my head against a wall for you. There's a reason that your life is like this, that your family is like this, and it's too much for me.”

Alvey raised his eyebrows trying not to be hurt by that. It was some pretty fucked up shit to say. “That's it?”

“That's it.” She pursed her lips and added, “And please don't call me.” 

“Okay.” Alvey headed inside. He didn’t want to watch her drive away.

 

* * *

 

“Zee!” 

Zoey looked up from her book to see a sweaty Adam jogging up to her. “Uh, hey,” she replied, trying to sound casual. She’d managed to avoid him for several weeks, but they’d finally crossed paths again. And damn him – he was even cuter than she remembered him being. 

“You look beautiful,” he blurted.

She blushed a bit, but she forced a snort and retorted, “You look… sweaty.”

Adam smiled shyly. “Sorry.” 

Zoey shrugged. “’s okay. I’m used to seeing sweaty guys.”

He motioned to her book. “What are you reading?” 

She lifted the cover up so he could see it and dropped it back into her lap.

“Ah, _The Secret Life of Bees_ ,” he mused. “I had to read that in high school.” He shook his head, remembering. “Broke my heart.” 

Zoey’s eyebrows knitted together. “It’s sad?” 

Adam glanced at the pages and saw that she was still near the beginning. “Yeah. And it gets sadder, but you’ve got a while. Tell me when you get to the end. I wanna hear what you think.”

“Okay.” 

Quiet fell.

“So… I know it’s kind of late, but would you… do you want to go get some lunch?” Adam asked her.

Zoey tried to smile. She wished she could say yes. She wanted desperately to go get lunch with Adam and ask him a million questions about music and his life and how he got into DJing. She wanted to see his weird friends from college and play Frisbee with them again on the beach. She wanted to see him interact with Abigail again and do his weird baby talk at her. But she couldn’t. 

She glanced down at her ruined arms, and, even though her skin was hidden under a sweatshirt, tilted them away from him. 

“Oh, come on,” Adam begged, reading her expression. “I missed you.”

“You barely know me,” she said before she could stop herself.

“Yeah, I know,” he replied sadly, “but I missed you anyway.”

Goddamn him, goddamn him… She averted her eyes. “Adam,” she sighed.

“Yo,” Nate called to her from across the gym as he went from one side to the other.

She lifted a hand in acknowledgement.

Adam stared after Nate with jealousy in his eyes. "He shouldn't talk to you like that."

"What?"

Adam swiped a hand through his wet hair. "Just... like that. It's disrespectful."

She couldn't stop the small smile from forming on her lips. So he really still didn’t know. 

“You going out with him now?” he asked, a bit of bitterness escaping into his tone. 

Zoey rolled her eyes. “No. I told you. We’re-” 

“Just friends,” he repeated. “I know.” 

She insisted, “We are.” 

“Yeah,” he replied dejectedly.

“I tell you what,” Zoey sighed. She hated to be the reason he looked so sad. “I’m gonna be here for…” She glanced at her phone. “At least another hour. So if you want to get lunch and, uh, come back…”

“You’ll let me sit with you?” he interrupted hopefully.

“…I’ll be here,” she continued, ignoring him, ” with my book. But I might just get distracted again if you start talking…”

“Sweet! I’ll be back in twenty minutes!” he called, already dashing away to the locker room.

Zoey couldn’t help but smile after him. 

From across the gym, Nate laughed silently at her stupid expression. Her head snapped toward her brother, and she scowled at him, but he just mocked her with dramatic goo-goo eyes. She flipped him off.

 

* * *

 

Sky was heading toward Nate, intending to ask if Zoey was in the gym when a guy with a paper bag came speed-walking past her and nearly smacked into her. "What the hell?!"

“Oh- sorry! I'm so sorry!” he called. A trail of cologne followed him as he rushed to the lounge. 

She stared at his back for a moment before blinking and shaking her head. She headed the rest of the way toward Nate. “Hey.”

“Hey.” He let out a heavy breath and dropped his weights onto the rack. 

“What’s up?”

“Sup,” Nate replied. 

“Uh, is your sister here?”

“Yeah. Didn’t you see her little boyfriend running in there to see her?” 

“Boyfriend?” Sky repeated. She tried not to look as stunned as she felt. 

“Well, I don’t think they’re actually together yet, but yeah. She gets all… _girly_ whenever he’s around.” Nate rolled his eyes.

Girly? Had Zoey been girly around Sky? What did that even mean? 

“Who is he?”

“Don’t know, don’t really care,” Nate replied, going back to his weights.

She followed him to the other side of the rack. “Really? I thought you’d be after him with a fucking gun and all those big brother threats not to hurt her.” 

“That’s Jay,” Nate muttered. “I’m more of the death stare type.” 

“But Zee and this guy... they’re seeing each other?”

Nate shrugged. “I just know they look at each other dumb. And apparently they hung out a couple of times. She came home all fucking dreamy one night after he DJed at some club he invited her to. But, uh. Shit went down pretty soon after, so I didn’t really hear about it.”

Sky nodded, figuring that he meant something about Alicia’s older sister getting murdered. That sucked.

“Has she ever…”

Nate looked at her. 

Sky cleared her throat. “Uh, has Zee ever, like… mentioned me?”

“I mean, yeah. She fucking loves hanging out with you. She hasn’t really had friends here since she was in junior high.” 

Sky raised her eyebrows. 

“Yeah, there was a…” He shook his head. 

“What?”

He shrugged. “It's not my story to tell.” At her disappointed expression, he sighed. “Look, I know you guys were messing around,” he told her quietly. “Maybe you still are. And I don’t fucking care… but some people do. So just – keep that shit on the low, alright?” 

“Uh, y-yeah,” she stuttered. “Yeah.”  
  
“My dad can’t find out.”

Sky nodded. “Of course. But you… you don’t think she… likes me?”

Nate sighed. “I don’t think she’s gay, if that’s what you mean.” 

“Oh.”

“I could be wrong,” he added quickly.

Sky shrugged and forced a smile. “No, you know her better than anybody. I thought she was straight anyway.”

Nate gave her an apologetic smile. “You’ll have to talk to her.” 

“Yeah, that’s kinda the hard part.”

“What do you mean?” 

Sky looked at the floor. “She won’t take my calls. She ignores all my texts. She only messages me anymore if she wants to come over and fuck.”

Nate couldn’t help his shocked expression. He didn’t know Zoey and Sky were actually having sex.

Sky paled. “I… I thought you knew. She tells you everything.” 

“I mean, I knew you guys were making out and shit. I didn’t know about…” 

“It’s different when it’s two girls, I guess,” Sky muttered. “Probably isn’t as serious as real fucking.” 

Nate laughed sarcastically. “Real fucking,” he repeated to himself. “Look, I’m not really a good guy to talk to about your sex life. Especially with my fucking sister. But if she’s treating you like shit, you need to cut her out. Lose her number.” 

Sky sighed.

“Yeah, yeah,” Nate said, “I know. She’s pretty. She’s different. She _gets_ you. Right?” 

Sky shrugged and then reluctantly nodded. 

Nate nodded back and softly told her, “Just cause you both hurt yourselves doesn’t mean you’re made for each other. Probably means you should fucking stay farther apart, actually.” 

Sky swallowed, her eyes wide. “How do you-?” 

“My family fucking sucks at keeping secrets,” Nate answered shortly. He racked the weights again and walked away.

 

* * *

 

“You didn’t have to bring me anything!” Zoey exclaimed as Adam passed her a croissant with turkey and lettuce inside. 

“Ah, it’s no big deal. I didn’t know what you liked, so I figured I’d go classic.” 

“Well, thank you,” she said sincerely. “And yes, I love turkey sandwiches. They’re my fucking favorite. Well, other than peanut butter.” 

Adam pulled out his own sandwich, which Zoey just stared at. “Don’t hate,” he defended. 

“I’m trying. What the fuck _is_ that?”

“A rock lobster sandwich.” 

“Lobster sandwiches? Is that even a thing?” 

“Apparently, since I’m eating one,” Adam laughed.

“Fucking rich kids,” Zoey grumbled. “What’s that white stuff?” 

“Vanilla bean mayonnaise. The ‘green stuff,’” he teased, “is rocket salad. And that right there is grilled prosciutto.”

“I don’t even know where to start! Vanilla bean mayonnaise? Rocket salad?!”

“Arugula,” he said, as if that should explain everything. 

“Arugula?” Zoey repeated. “It sounds like a country. Or a dance move.” 

He chuckled. "No, it’s a plant. You wanna try it?” He opened the sandwich so she could get a better look inside of it. 

“No thanks,” Zoey replied, wrinkling her nose. “I’m worried I might accidentally taste the vanilla bean mayonnaise.” 

“Which is why I got you the turkey.” 

“Yes. Thank you for that.” 

“Yeah. And maybe I also, uh, figured you’d have to put your book down to pick up the sandwich.”

Zoey transferred The Secret Life of Bees into her right hand and picked up the sandwich with her left. She took a bite and chewed slowly, looking up at Adam with a blank expression.

He laughed. “You are something else.”

She liked that he wasn’t disheartened. She should probably lighten up on him… but she couldn’t help it. She needed to protect herself. Or – well, protect him from herself. She guiltily ate another bit of her sandwich. She shouldn't have let him do this.

“I remember you bringing up a certain blink-182,” Adam said after they’d been silently eating for a while. "You like them a lot?"

“Yeah,” Zoey nodded, swallowing a bite. “But only the old stuff. I don’t care about the new stuff.”

“It’s not that bad.”

She put down her book and held up a finger. “I don’t wanna fucking hear it. It’s sacrilege.” 

“Yeah, it kind of is,” Adam admitted.

She nodded firmly. 

“So where are we starting?” 

“I only care about Enema of the State to the self-titled one.”

“Same,” Adam said. “I was gonna tell you I don’t really know anything about the early albums. I listened to them once or twice, and I just couldn’t vibe with it.” 

“Yeah. My br- I, uh. I…” 

“I know you have a brother,” Adam reminded. “You don’t have to hide him from me.”

Zoey nodded. “Okay. Yeah, my brother would always play blink in the car and on the boombox in the kitchen and stuff, so I knew the music that way. Those three albums were, like, his most valuable possessions. He wouldn’t let us touch them, and one time we got to borrow them, and it was a really big deal.” 

“We?” 

“Uh. Yeah.”

Adam tilted his head at her curiously but didn’t ask anything.

“And then The Mark, Tom, and Travis Show came out, and that was all we listened to for like, a year.” She shook her head and smiled down at her croissant. “And I’m not fucking kidding.” 

“So…” 

She looked back up at him. “So what do you think about them?” 

“The guys or the albums?” 

“I don’t know. Both.” 

“Well, I don’t know whether aliens exist, but either way, it seems like Tom has gone off the deep end.”

“Yep.”

"As far as the music goes..."

They talked until Zoey’s phone beeped. Time to feed Abby and get ready for that night. How had two hours gone by?!

“Fuck,” she said sadly. “I have to go home.”

“Oh yeah, the weigh-in’s tonight.” 

Zoey froze, wondering how he knew she’d be there.

“What? Don’t you go to all the Navy Street stuff?” he asked. “I mean, being Nate Kulina’s ‘best friend’ and all. His brother Jay is fighting tomorrow, so I was sure you’d be at the weigh-in.” 

“Yeah, and he’s fighting fucking Ryan,” Zoey moaned, letting her head fall into her hands. 

It was hard not being able to talk to anyone about how conflicted she felt about them fighting again. Jay was a fucking disaster after Ava died, and he’d been a mess even before that. He could barely stand up for more than a few minutes. How the hell was he going to fight? 

“It’s gonna be awesome,” Adam grinned. 

Zoey shook her head, finally letting him see some of her real emotion. “No, it’s not.” It had been bad enough watching them beat the shit out of each other once. Now she had to do it again. 

“Why? They’re the alpha dogs. Don’t you want to see who comes out on top?”

Zoey sighed. “They did this already. They fought already.” 

“Yeah, I remember.” 

“But there’s been a lot of shit going down.”

“Yeah. I read that the Kulina sister tried to kill herself. That’s got to be hard on them.” 

Zoey swallowed. “Yeah. And, uh. Jay’s girlfriend died two weeks ago.” 

“Oh, shit,” Adam said, his eyes widening. “Alicia Mendez’s sister? She was his girlfriend?” 

“Yeah.” 

“How’s Nate taking all this?” Adam asked, and he actually sounded concerned. 

“The sister thing has been really hard on him,” Zoey murmured. She tucked some of her hair behind her ear. “Harder than he wants to admit. He found her after she did it, so… he’s pretty fucked up.” 

“I heard that, but I was pretty sure it was just a rumor.” 

“Do you not read the message boards?” Zoey asked, looking him straight in the eyes. 

“I used to. Here and there. But I couldn’t really figure them out, to be honest. I mostly use Reddit. I just go on the message boards to get the live updates.” 

“Well, I can text you tonight, but…” 

“Yeah, that’d be cool. What’s the next part?”

Zoey shook her head. “Don’t repeat this, okay?” 

“Okay.”

She leaned closer to him and whispered, “Jay’s not gonna win.” 

Adam leaned back, a horrified look on his face. “Are the fights rigged?!” 

“What? No – no. No, of course not. I just meant…” She sighed. “Look, his girlfriend only died two weeks ago. His sister tried to kill herself like a month ago. He hasn’t been training. Nate says he’s been using a lot.” 

“Using… drugs?” 

“Yeah, what the hell else do you think ‘using’ means?” she asked, almost smiling.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I don’t really hang out with drug people.” 

Zoey almost laughed. “You think Cole doesn’t do drugs?” 

“He doesn’t,” Adam replied simply. 

“Yeah, right,” she chuckled, but when she turned to look at him, his expression told her that he was dead serious. 

“Zee, I wouldn’t live with him if he did.” 

She tilted her head. “What?” 

“It’s just not my scene.”

“Why?” she asked curiously. 

He shrugged and looked away. “I don’t know. I’ve seen a lot of really good people get really messed up from alcohol and drugs. I don’t want to be like them. And I don’t want to watch that happen to anyone I care about again.”

“Yeah, I get that,” Zoey murmured. She glanced down at her phone and then stood up. “Look, I’ve really got to go. Thank you so much for lunch.” 

“Wait – when can we hang out again?” he asked desperately.

She tried to conceal her smile. “I don’t know, Adam.”

“Text me!” he called as she headed out.

Zoey grinned as she left.


	30. Chapter 30

“Where the fuck is he?” Alvey demanded. 

Garo shrugged. “I don't know.” 

“Call him!” Alvey ordered. 

Calmly, Lisa stated, “I'm calling him right now.” The phone rang and rang in her ear, and she started walking. She murmured to Nate and Zoey, “I'm gonna go to the motel.” 

“Eight minutes until weigh-in,” Garo informed her. 

She turned around. “You know what? You can push it.” 

“No, we're not pushing it,” Alvey protested. 

“Why not?”

“Because Ryan's here. He did the fucking work. He's not... He's not paying the fucking price for Jay's fuck-ups.” 

“I agree with Alvey,” Garo admitted. “It's not right. If he's not here, he's docked. If he doesn't show up at all, I don't know. I'll fucking sue him.” 

Zoey looked worriedly up at Nate, who had his ear pressed to his phone, too. He gave her a look but didn’t speak.

“You're not gonna fucking sue him,” Lisa scoffed at the same time Alvey muttered, “You're not suing. Stop.”

“Fuck you, I will. Get him here.” Garo stormed away. 

Lisa looked at Alvey. “Just keeps going to voicemail. It’s just going to voicemail.” 

“Fucking guy!” Alvey spat. 

“Hey,” Zoey said suddenly, grabbing her family’s attention. They all followed her gaze to the door where Jay was trudging in.

“Here he is,” Alvey announced.

“Yo,” Nate called, rushing up to him with Lisa by his side. “What the fuck?” 

Zoey was shocked at how horrible Jay looked. Lisa, Alvey, and Nate had been seeing him periodically, but Zoey hadn’t seen him in two weeks. And he’d looked terrible then. Now he looked… he looked like a strung-out anorexic. Seriously.

“Hey!” Lisa demanded. “You okay?”

Nate took the belt off of Jay’s shoulder, and Jay carefully pulled one of his earbuds out. His question was barely audible. “What?” 

“Are you okay?” Lisa slowly repeated. 

His eyes flitted from Lisa to Nate and back to Lisa. “Yeah. Why?”

“Cause you're late.” 

“What time is it?” he inquired. 

“Six fifty-eight.” 

Jay shrugged and tiredly collapsed down onto the bench. “So I'm two minutes early,” he exhaled. “Two minutes early.” He fitted his earbud back in and took a heavy breath in and out. He shut his eyes.

Nate looked from his brother to his sister and back. He tried not to feel sick to his stomach.

 

* * *

 

 

“Ladies and gentlemen, the former King Beast lightweight champion! The Destroyer! Ryaaaaan Wheeler!” 

There was a big cheer and lots of applause. The audience started chanting, “Wheeler! Wheeler! Wheeler!”

“Hey,” Zoey muttered, walking up to Sky. 

“Oh. Hey.”

Sky didn’t quite make eye contact with her, and she crossed her arms firmly against her chest. Weird.

“One hundred and fifty-five pounds!” Garo announced. 

Zoey looked up to the stage just in time to see Ryan flexing his muscles. “You okay?” she asked Sky, raising her voice over the noise of the crowd. 

“Fine.” 

“You sure? You don't look fine.” 

Sky snapped, “ Yeah, I’m sure.”

Zoey nodded awkwardly, shifting her weight slightly away. “Okay.”

“And now, the current King Beast lightweight champion, Jay Kulina!”

An even greater cheer sounded from the crowd. 

Jay walked toward the scale without stopping, and Nate grabbed him by the arm and said something, but Jay just shrugged him off. Zoey could feel the pit of worry in Nate’s stomach, and she pressed a hand over her abdomen. Nate glanced out at her, and she grimaced back.

Jay stepped up to the scale without shedding any of his clothes, and while her family looked shocked at his decision, Zoey wasn’t. She knew he’d be well under the mark. He looked smaller than she ever remembered him being – and that included his killer cut down to 145. 

She watched as the guy reading the scale said something to Garo. There was a moment of back-and forth between the two, and Garo looked pissed. “One hundred and fifty pounds!” he announced.

Ryan turned around so no one could read his lips as he asked Alvey, “What the fuck is this?” 

“Don't worry about it,” Alvey replied. 

Anybody who knew Jay knew that he loved to put on a show for the cameras. He wouldn’t love fighting nearly as much if there hadn’t been so much attention showered on him. But that night, it was all he could do to remain on the stage for an extra six or seven seconds.

Ryan pulled him into a tight hug and then stood forehead-to-forehead with him with his fists up. Jay just stood there. His hands hung limply at his sides.

Up close, he looked even worse than Ryan had expected. His hair was sticking out everywhere, and everyone in the ballroom could see that. But up close, Ryan could tell that Jay hadn’t showered in at least two days. His breath smelled a little, like he wasn’t brushing his teeth, either, and his eyes looked emptier than the guys Ryan met that were in prison for life.

“Jay,” Garo urged as the fighter turned away, “more photos.”

But Jay shook his head. “No. I'm done.” 

“Jay, we need them,” Lisa protested, but Jay was already halfway off the stage.

“It's a fucking disaster,” Garo complained to Alvey.

“He made weight,” Alvey shrugged. 

“He came in five pounds under, dry as a rhino's cunt! Did he even train for this?”

“It's all fine, it’s all fine,” Lisa assured.

Alvey sighed. “We'll see you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow?” Garo asked incredulously. 

“Yeah. This fight's happening.” He put a hand on Ryan’s shoulder and steered him the opposite way off the stage. “Come on.”

Lisa followed Jay, so Nate was left standing alone by the scale with his brother’s hard-earned belt on his shoulder. It had never been a light thing, but it seemed ten times heavier knowing that it wouldn’t be Jay’s anymore come this time the next day. 

The middle Kulina sibling squinted into the bright light and cupped a hand over his eyes, searching the dispersing crowd until he found his little sister. She gave him a wave, and he nodded back. Sky was next to her, but they weren’t speaking, and Sky looked ticked off. He made his way off the platform and down to the girls. 

“Hey,” Sky said. ”He looked awful.” 

Nate snorted. “Thanks.” 

Zoey gave him a sad look, which he returned. 

“You ready to get the fuck out of here?” he asked.

She nodded. 

“See ya,” he said to Sky. 

The brother and sister walked shoulder to shoulder as they started for the door. Partway out of the room, Zoey slipped her hand into Nate’s. Normally, she wouldn’t have done that in front of all these MMA people – he had to stay ‘cool,’ and he’d told her when she was seven that holding hands with his little sister wasn’t cool anymore – but that night, she knew he needed it just as badly as he did. He readjusted his grip so that their fingers laced together, and they headed out to the parking lot.

 

* * *

 

Lisa entered the gym to see Alvey beating the shit out of a punching bag. She stared at him until he noticed her. “Hey,” she said when he finally did. “I thought you'd be drinking by now.”

“I got to earn that shit first,” he replied, panting a little.

She chuckled and started toward her office. 

“I'm worried about Jay,” Alvey said loudly. 

Lisa stopped and turned back. 

“I am. I-I've never seen him like this. This girl dying has got his fucking head twisted.” 

“I know,” Lisa nodded.

“I don't know what the fuck to do for him.” 

“Alvey, what do I do?” Lisa begged. 

Alvey sighed. “Nothing. I was kinda hoping Nate and Zo could fucking sort him out, but… it's on him.”

Lisa pursed her lips. “Okay. I got some work to do, so I'm gonna...” 

“Wait, don't... don't. It's your place, too. Have a drink. One drink with me, okay? We'll talk some more. You and me will walk out together.”

 

* * *

 

“What the fuck are we gonna do?” Zoey whispered to Nate.

Nate sighed and stared at his sister’s ceiling. He ran a hand over Abigail’s back. “I don’t know.”  
  
Dad wasn’t home, but it still felt wrong to be talking about Jay out loud. The pair was lying side by side on top of Zoey's quilt as the sun went down. Abigail was nestled between them.

“He can’t win like this.” 

“I know.”

“And I can’t fucking talk to him.”

“Why not?” Nate asked, finally turning his head to look at her.

She didn’t speak.

“Why?” he pressed.

“He doesn’t want anything to do with me.”

Nate rolled his eyes. “It’s not _you_ he’s upset with. He’s fucked up cause of Ava. And the fucking drugs.” 

“He still doesn’t want to talk to me.” 

“He doesn’t _want_ to talk to _anybody,_ ” Nate pointed out. 

“He always wants to talk to you.” 

“That’s not true.”

“Yeah. You’re his favorite.”

“Zebra, what the hell?” Nate asked, dislodging Abigail from his hip as he sat up on his elbows to stare at Zoey. “You know he loves you. You fucking know that, and you’ve never said anything like that before. Why the hell would you even joke about that?”

Zoey shrugged. “He gets mad at me. He never gets mad at you.”

“Yeah, he does. It’s different.”

“Name one time he-”

Before she could even finish, Nate started ticking off a list on his fingers. “When you were missing and I forgot to cook on a Wednesday. When I told Dad that he had a gun. When I was in high school and Dad overheard me telling you about him sleeping with his girlfriend. When I forgot to pick him up from the gym and he had to walk home. When-”

“Okay, okay,” Zoey interrupted, shoving a hand in Nate’s direction to get him to shut up.

“It’s different between me and him than it is between him and you. When we get pissed at each other, I mean. It’s quieter. You two both like to slam doors and snap at each other. With me and Jay, it’s not so loud. Doesn’t mean there’s not conflict.” 

“Well, still, I think _you_ should talk to him, not me.” 

“Wait, what?”

“I think you should talk to him.” 

“And say what, exactly?" he asked, dropping back down to the mattress. "Look, he doesn’t want to fucking hear from me. He’s already fucking pissed at me cause I keep coming by and bugging him.”

Zoey gave him a confused look. 

Nate sighed. “I’ve been checking on him a lot. Going to the motel and bringing him food and water bottles and shit. He gets annoyed with me, but… I know he won’t fucking eat if I don’t give him food.”

Zoey smiled sadly. “You’re a good brother.”

“I know,” Nate softly replied. 

Abigail let out a gentle snort and readjusted slightly between her two favorite humans. Zoey watched the dog for a moment and then spoke. “What the fuck are we going to do about tomorrow, though? I mean, you’re not going to try to get him to actually win, are you?” 

“I don’t think he can.”

“But are you going to try? Cause you know he can’t fight like this. He’s a fucking twig. He’s got no muscle, he’s got nothing going on in his brain-”

“No, I think he’s got a fucking _ton_ going on in his brain,” Nate interrupted. 

“Maybe,” Zoey nodded. “But I mean… are you going to act like everything’s fucking normal?” 

Nate sighed. “I think I have to.” He turned onto his side so he could look at her. “What the fuck do I do, Zebra?”

Zoey was quiet for a long minute. “I… I don’t know.” 

Nate shut his eyes. 

“He won’t talk. We don’t know what’s going through his head. And we’ve never fucking dealt with this before.” Zoey put a hand on his arm. “I think you just go in there tomorrow and fucking gauge what he needs, and you do that. Whatever the fuck it is. You act normal, or you cancel the fight, or you let him talk to you for two hours… whatever he needs.” 

“But how the fuck am I supposed to know what he needs?”

“You always know,” she replied simply.

Nate blinked and rolled back onto his back. His shoulder blades sank into Zoey’s mattress and rested comfortably on her quilt. It was hard to remember that she was still a teenager, that she still saw him as her hero. She hadn’t realized yet what a fucking coward he was. She still sincerely believed that he could do anything.

He swallowed and did his best to nod. He’d have to figure something out, and fast. He wasn’t in a position to let either of his siblings down.

 

* * *

 

“What made you want this?” Lisa asked, fiddling with the box of ashes on Alvey’s desk.

“I don't know. Something about him sitting on a shelf with a bunch of unknown crackheads didn't feel right. You know, he was my friend.”

She set it back down. “What are you gonna do with him?” 

“Maybe I'll just throw him in the ocean, you know? That seems... ceremonial.” 

“It's definitely deep,” she agreed. 

Alvey sighed. “What are we gonna do about this?” 

“About what?” 

“About you and me and running this place.” 

Lisa shrugged. “We'll work in shifts."

"You really think you can show up here every day and not hate my fucking guts?” 

“Maybe… Maybe not.” 

“That's a bit of a problem.” A quiet fell between them. Alvey offered, “I'm not seeing Roxanne anymore.” 

“Aw, did you guys have a fight?" Lisa asked in a baby voice, a mock pout on her face. "What happened?”

Alvey snorted. “She pointed out that I was obviously in no shape to be in a relationship."

Lisa held her drink up to cover her mouth and muttered, "Or hold on to one, or even finish one like a fucking man.” 

“Wow. Ouch.”

“Mm.” Lisa sighed. “I didn't mean to be harsh. I'm sorry. I am... way too tired to fight with you.” She got up and started to leave, but Alvey called after her.

“I couldn't think about you,” he said.

Lisa stopped in her tracks and turned to hear what else he was going to say.

“I was a coward. She was a diversion.” 

Lisa looked at him evenly as she murmured, “That must've been nice for you.” 

 

* * *

 

 

Zoey’s phone went off around noon the next day. 

 

 **Adam** _: Heard Kulina and Wheeler both made weight. Nice!  
_**Adam** _: I have a present 4 u. U coming to the gym 2day?_  

 

As much as she wanted to, Zoey didn’t respond. She wouldn’t be at the gym, and she shouldn’t have let herself talk to Adam yesterday. There was too much shit going on for her to get involved with someone else, and even though she’d told him, he couldn’t seem to get that through his head. She figured it didn't help that she'd spent half an afternoon talking and laughing with him. 

But that was currently the least of her problems.

Bob had asked her to go to a business event that night that she’d had to turn down, but she needed a favor from Will anyway. And then there was the whole matter of the picture of Nate Kulina and his “mystery girl” splashed on the front page of Sherdog LA and MMA Junkie Los Angeles… 

Someone had snapped a photo of the back of Nate and Zoey leaving the weigh-in with their hands clasped together. Whoever took the picture hadn’t gotten a good look at Zoey, so they didn’t recognize her. Or maybe they just didn’t know who she was. This wasn’t the first time, but it was the first time it had happened while Zoey had a crush on a boy – a boy who still didn’t know that Nate was her brother.

Fuck.

She sighed and tugged a sundress over her head. After she spent a few minutes working a curling iron through her hair, she was ready to meet Bob for his luncheon downtown.

 

* * *

 

 

“Is that everything?” Nate asked, peering into the Tupperware Christina had prepared. 

“Chicken, brown rice, and oatmeal.”

“Clippers?” he asked. 

She passed them to him in a case. 

“Ah. Thank you.” 

“You're welcome.”

“Want me to pick you up tonight?” he offered.

“I'll drive myself.” 

“I don't mind. It's not a problem.” 

“I don't want to get there at five o'clock and sit around all night. It's boring,” she complained. At Nate’s disapproving expression, she sighed dramatically and promised, “I will be there, and I'll talk to him. 

“Be there by nine, alright?”

 

* * *

 

“Will, wait,” Zoey said as he walked with her to the curb. The lunch had gone fine, and Bob didn't seem too upset with her for not being able to go to the party with him that night. 

“You alright?” 

“Yeah, um. I just… I kinda need to ask a favor.” 

“Alright. What is it?”

She forced a smile. “This money… it’s so much. And it’s all in my house, but I was wondering if you could help me get it somewhere… safer. I’ve started having nightmares about fires,” she joked. Zoey was holding yet another envelope filled with thousands of dollars. This one would make thirty. Thirty _thousand_ dollars. 

“Where do you want it?” 

“I was thinking, like, a bank?” she asked nervously. 

“You don’t have an account?” 

She shook her head. “I was hoping you could help me set one up.” 

“I can have it done for you. But I’m gonna need a last name.” 

“My real name?” 

“Preferably.” 

Zoey swallowed. “Okay, um. Well, first you should know that my name isn’t Christina. It’s Zoey.” He didn’t seem surprised, so she continued. “And my last name is Kulina.” She shrugged. “So I guess you can call me Zee now.” 

At Will's silence, she stopped fiddling with the clasp on the envelope and looked up. Will was staring at her like he’d seen a ghost.

“Wh- are you okay? What’s wrong?” 

He blinked. “Nothing. Nothing. I’m sorry, just. I think I heard you wrong. Did you say…?”

“Zee, yeah. That’s what everyone calls me. Well, my brother calls me Zebra, but no one else does.” 

“Jesus,” Will whispered. He ran a hand over his mouth and forced himself to clear his throat. 

“If you don’t want to do it-” she began, but he quickly cut her off. 

“No, I will. I will. I’ll get it taken care of for you. Would you like me to put that in for you as well?” he asked, pointing at the envelope in her hand. 

Zoey nodded and passed it back to him. “Yes, please.” Will was staring at her so intensely that she glanced behind her to make sure no one else was standing there. “Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked.

“Yes,” he lied. He walked to the waiting car and opened the door so she could slide in. “I’ll call you when it’s done.”

“Thanks.”

“Let me know you get home alright,” he said, just like he always did. But his tone was different tonight. He seemed to mean it more than ever.

Zoey watched him out the back window of the car and noticed that he looked more emotional than she’d ever seen him. Sad, shocked, confused… All she’d done was ask him to open a damn bank account. It shouldn’t have been so earth-shattering. 

Once he was no longer in her field of vision, she opened her purse and pulled out her phone. No new notifications. She tossed it onto the seat next to her and closed her eyes.

 

* * *

 

The motel room was dark and quiet. It didn’t smell nearly as much, and there was significantly less clutter. Nate was surprised when Jay had not only opened the door but actually let him come inside, but Nate had a strong suspicion that Jay had just wanted to fall back into bed as quickly as possible. 

Nate looked his brother over. He was so thin that his skin seemed to be growing waxy. His hair was too long, his eyes were too dim, his jaw was too sharp, his cheeks were too hollow… Nate wanted to cocoon him in blankets and bring Zoey in to snuggle him, not shove him into a cage in his underwear and force him to beat up his best friend. 

“Feel like you got enough rest last night?” Nate asked, trying to muster a normal voice. 

“Mm-hmm,” Jay hummed. 

“If you, uh... If you feel dehydrated, I can get Mac over here with a bag.”

There was a long silence. Nate was sure that Jay wasn’t going to speak, but then he did.

“That's illegal.” 

“Okay,” Nate whispered. He turned around and dug in his bag, just for the sake of something to do. “Here,” he said, producing a bottle of Propel. “Drink this.” He tossed it to his brother, but Jay’s reflexes were so slow that he barely made a move to catch it. The drink thumped against his calf and dropped unceremoniously onto the comforter. Jay stared down at it.

“Mom's coming tonight,” Nate offered. 

Jay slowly turned his head toward the window, which Nate would have normally believed to be an effort at appearing disinterested, but the window was covered by a thick curtain. Jay wasn’t trying to ignore Nate. He just… was. He couldn’t focus. 

“Look, I know you got a lot on your mind-” 

“I'm not,” Jay began, and Nate immediately fell silent, desperate for any inkling of what the fuck to do. “I'm not trying... Yeah, I don't have a...” Jay sighed softly. “You know, I don't have a single thought in my mind that makes a... a stitch of sense.” 

“Okay, then talk to me,” Nate begged. “ _Talk_ to me.” 

Jay’s reply came in a dejected whisper. “About what, man?”

“Like, all of it,” Nate replied desperately. “Ava, the fight, Zebra, Mom, wha-whatever's on your mind. Just talk to me.”

“I'm just going through some... emotional shit, which I think is, you know... somewhat natural... right now.” Jay’s eyes filled with tears. 

Nate opened his mouth and then closed it. He had no idea what the fuck to do. Zoey said Nate would just magically know how to help, but Jay was the one that always did the comforting. He never seemed to need it, and when he did, all it took was baby Zoey hopping in his lap, throwing her arms around his neck, and telling him that she loved him more than Cheerios. This… Nate didn’t know how to fix this. 

Jay seemed to read that in Nate’s face. “Yeah,” he said shortly, holding a hand up to block Nate’s sorrowful expression. “Dude. Can you just please... Get the fuck... You’ve got to go. Dude, you’ve got to go.”

Nate was shocked. Forlorn. “What are you talking about?” he asked hopelessly.

“You’ve got to get the fuck out of here.” Jay forced himself off of the bed and toward the door. 

“Jay...” Nate said darkly.

“Can you just get there for me?”

“We're going together,” Nate said, but it was more a question than anything else. This was all he had. All he fucking had. He was grasping at straws, and Jay was still shoving him away. 

“Set everything up real nice for your big brother, cause I'm gonna win this fight, and I need it set up right.”

“I don't... I don't think you're gonna win the fight,” Nate confessed. His voice was barely more than a whisper. “I don't think you're ready.”

Jay plastered a fake smile across his face, which made Nate feel impossibly more nauseous.

“Well, I think I'm gonna,” Jay declared halfheartedly. “And I need _you_ to think I'm going to.” 

“I don't think you're ready.”

“I'm gonna win this fight,” Jay repeated quietly. “I'm gonna win. Just… go, though.”

Nate gave in. Arguing with Jay would make everything ten times worse, and he didn’t want that. He didn’t want Zoey to worry any more, either. His phone had already vibrated twice in his pocket. “Get there early, alright?” Nate imparted. 

“Yeah. Yeah. I'm gonna get there early.” 

Nate paused in the doorway, his bag on his shoulder. He shot Jay a nervous look. Disappointing Zoey was one thing, but Nate was almost afraid to leave Jay by himself. Something about him was screaming 'hopelessness.' It was like watching Zoey all over again. If Nate discovered Jay dying alone on the floor the same way he’d found Zoey, he didn’t know whether or not he could survive it. 

“I love you, dude,” Jay whispered, “but go.” 

Nate swallowed. He tried to force everything he was thinking and feeling into his next four words. “I love you, man.” He shut the door behind himself, knowing that his efforts weren't enough. It weighed heavily on his shoulders. He’d failed.

 

* * *

 

Once Jay was alone in the room, he dropped his shoulders and let his emotions take over. His face crumbled as the overwhelming, unnamable feeling crashed over him. He didn't even know what was wrong anymore, but he leaned back into his pillows and let himself be broken. 

Tears streaked down his cheeks, fast at first and then slower. His hands trembled as they covered his face. His teeth seemed to chatter in his mouth. 

“Get it together,” he whispered to himself. “Fucking get it together…” 

He stared at his ugly reflection in the mirror. 

One fight. 

One fight tonight, and then it would all be over. Win or lose, he didn’t care. There were bigger things than who came out on top in Alvey’s twisted game of favorites. It wasn’t about that. It was about… 

It was about _love_ and _life_ and what happens after, and Jay had done nothing but push away the people who meant the most. It was all that had made sense in his confused state of mind. He was still lost in the heavy haze of grief, not just for Ava, but for innumerable things. 

Over the weeks, as he reflected on Ava and what had happened leading up to her death, he grew obsessed with chains of events. He could trace everything that had ever happened in his life back to a two things – growing up with no mom, and Alvey being a dick. 

Even Jay’s relationships with Nate and Zoey had been reliant on those things. And therefore, their lives had been shaped by their parents (or lack of) as well. They wouldn't be anywhere near as close if they hadn't grown up the way they did. Jay wouldn't be even half the brother he was to them, but he wondered if he would have been happier. He might have been a better man.  

Countless thoughts bombarded him. Thoughts of regret, of sadness, of joy… Of the way he’d been forced into throwing so much of his life away. Of Alvey actively choosing not to support his career, or any of him at all, really. Of Christina not being anything like he’d expected. Of the troubles Nate would face down the line due to sexuality; no wonder the poor kid had tried so hard to keep it quiet. (That was the only reason Jay hadn’t said anything to him about it. Nate had tried so fucking hard.) Of Lisa and the baby. Of Zoey’s rape and her mental health spiral – the depression, the cutting, and most of all, the suicide attempt. Of Ryan’s drug addiction and the assault that led to prison time. Of Ava... of the drugs... the fucking heroin...

Jay was tired, and not just from sleeping for too long. His _soul_ was tired. His body felt heavy, but his mind and his heart felt like lead. 

Once he got through this fight, though, there was nothing ahead. No obligations. No restrictions. No rope tying him down. And it didn’t matter whether he won or lost, because at worst, he’d be one and one. On paper, that wasn’t so bad. He could go anywhere, be anyone, do anything. Maybe what he’d perceived as the ending was really a brand new start.

 

 

* * *

 

“Zee!” 

Zoey turned to see Joe Daddy jogging toward her. “Uh, hey. What are you-?”

“That Josh kid asked me to give you this,” Joe rushed out, holding out a plastic CD case. “I gotta get back there, but he said it was really fucking important, so I figured I’d get it to you sooner rather than later. Nate said you were here, so...” 

Zoey took it and looked curiously down at it. There was a folded up piece of notebook paper stuck under the lid and a silver disc peeking out behind it. “Thanks, Joe.” 

“No problem.” He started away, but she called after him.

“Hey, uh, is Jay here? We just got here a minute ago.” 

“Yeah.” 

She nodded. “Just… fucking go easy on him, okay?”

Joe nodded back. “That’s the plan,” he replied with a tight smile. 

Zoey made her way to the mostly-empty ballroom. The prelims were scheduled to begin soon, but most people wouldn’t arrive until the main card. Zoey found the table marked KULINA and sat down by herself. She carefully opened the CD case and picked up the piece of paper. 

ZOEY MIX CD Vol. 1 was printed in Sharpie across the top of the CD in messy handwriting, which made Zoey curious. Josh hardly spoke to her. Why would he be making her a mix cd? He was her age, but there was basically a rule that said any friends of Nate and Jay weren’t good enough for her. Both of them had been clear – they didn’t want her dating a fighter. Not that she cared much about their dating preferences for her. She clearly didn’t get to have an opinion on any boyfriends or girlfriends _they_ brought home. 

Zoey ran her fingers over the scribbled letters and then opened the note. It was slanted right in hastily written in pencil, and some of the lead had smudged a little where the creases were.

_Hey. I know it's been a while, and I’m not one to usually invest much in other people’s music tastes, but I really wanted to make sure you heard Life Is Worth Living. It’s a masterpiece._

Zoey’s stomach flipped. _Oh._ He must have given it to Josh, who gave it to Joe…

 _I put some other stuff on here, too. Some you’ll definitely know. Some you might not. But give it a fair chance if you can, and I want to hear all your thoughts on it next time I see you._  
_I hope the fight isn’t too stressful for you tonight. Text me if you remember – about the fight, but also to let me know you got this. I love Josh, but passing the cd on is making me nervous._    
_Anyway, I hope you enjoy it. I didn’t give you a track list because I don’t want you to skip any of the songs. Headphones, please, if you can. And don’t do anything. Just listen.  
__Adam_

Zoey smiled at the letter in spite of herself. Adam was a fucking angel. 

But she quickly got distracted when her phone lit up. _It’s bad,_ flashed across the screen. Nate. Zoey quickly folded up the paper and dialed her brother.

 

* * *

 

 

“Alright, gentlemen, first round!” Mike pointed at Jay. “You ready to fight?” Jay nodded. He pointed at Ryan. “You ready to fight?” Another nod. 

The bell clanged loudly.

“Handle it! Let's go!”


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the longest chapter and the last <3 g&g is easily the longest work i've ever written, and if you read all of this - AND parts i and ii - THANK YOU. yall are AMAZING. this absolutely would not have been finished without you.

Ryan and Jay touched gloves, and they were off. 

“Where’s his hair?” Zoey whispered to Nate, but he just smacked his gum and ignored the question. He had a white towel slung around his neck, and he was too focused on watching Jay dance around the cage to bother with his sister.

Several uneventful seconds passed, neither fighter wanting to make the first move. 

“Alright, come on! Let’s go!” Lisa shouted from somewhere behind him, but Nate would have been happy with them circling through all five rounds. 

“You set the pace!” Alvey called. Both Nate and Zoey’s eyes drifted to him. Fuck him for picking Ryan over Jay. _Fuck. Him._ As long as they lived, the three siblings would never forgive their father for that. 

Finally, _finally,_ Jay threw two punches. They weren’t weak, but they weren’t exactly strong either, and Ryan’s immediate responding jab was packed with force. He followed it with two heavy kicks to the side, and Alvey was clapping and encouraging Ryan, “Stay on him! Stay on him!” 

Ryan slammed Jay up against the wall and rammed his knee once, twice, a third time into Jay’s abdomen. Zoey had her hands over her mouth. Nate, on the other hand, was practically growling. “Go forward!” he shouted at Jay. “Go forward, you fucking pussy!” 

“Nate!” Zoey hissed. 

“You said do what he needed,” Nate snapped, not taking his eyes off of their brother. “This is what he fucking needs.” 

Zoey swallowed and returned her gaze to the octagon just in time to see Jay smash his elbow into Ryan’s temple and scramble a few inches forward. A few inches rapidly turned into a few feet, and Jay and Ryan fell into a tangled heap of arms and legs. After a brief struggle for dominance, Ryan came out on top, driving his fist hard into Jay’s cheekbone. Nate dropped his head with a wince.

Zoey was busy studying Alvey, who, for once, wasn’t yelling out instructions. He was just letting Ryan go. Zoey wondered if that was because he was so confident in Ryan’s ability or if he didn’t want to see Jay get hurt. She tried to convince herself that it was the latter. 

Jay grabbed Ryan by the neck, yanked his head down, and landed punch after punch after punch on his face. Nate was back on his feet, his hands in the air as he cheered his brother on. Zoey felt a little relief; Jay wasn’t totally out of it. He had a little something left in him. But regardless, watching the pair fight felt like shit. 

“Ten seconds!” Mike called, and upon hearing that, Ryan fought back harder. He presented Jay with his hardest punch yet, which sent Jay reeling. Fuck. 

“No!” Nate groaned.

The round ended with Jay cowering on the ground as Ryan hit him ceaselessly.

“You’ve got to defend yourself!” Mike yelled to Jay. “You’ve got to show me something!” But then the bell rang, saving them all.

Nate bounded into the cage, and Zoey knew she was allowed to follow him tonight, but she sank into her chair instead. This was too much for her. She knew a little bit about the way Jay was feeling, and she couldn’t imagine dragging herself out of bed to get her ass kicked. Although she’d dragged herself out of bed that one day to therapy with Dad, which she supposed was sort of comparable. Or, yeah - maybe not.

People in the arena were laughing, and Zoey glanced into the cage to see Ryan taking a seat with his back to Jay and Nate. 

“Turn around,” Alvey ordered. “Hey! Turn around! No bullshit.” 

Ryan obliged, and somebody in the crowd booed. 

Alvey ignored it. He leaned in close and said to his fighter, “Don't leave your fucking left hand out there, alright? Boom, boom, boom, boom, boom.”

“I'm trying to get him to fucking do something,” Ryan explained, rolling his eyes a little.

“Just take him down. Down. He's fucking gassed. Take him down. Do what you do, alright? That's it. Let’s go.”

Meanwhile, Nate was cracking open an ice-cold water bottle and pouring it into Jay’s mouth. “Alright, look at me,” he commanded. “You are being _way_ too fucking passive right now. I need you to attack. Be yourself, and fucking attack.”

Jay gave him a blank look. 

“Do you want to be here?” Nate asked. 

Nothing. 

“Do you want to be here?” he asked angrily. He found himself shouting in his brother’s face. “Do you want to fucking be here?!” 

Jay raised a hand and put it on Nate’s neck. He gave a fraction of a nod. It was a lie, and they both knew it, but it was all Nate had to work with. 

“Then fucking show it!” Nate yelled. 

“Let's go, Jay!” Lisa called as the Kulina boys stood up. 

“You got this,” Nate told him quietly. “Breathe. Deep breaths. Come on. You got this, Jay. You got this.”

“Come on, Jay!” Zoey encouraged from the seats.

Jay turned to look at her, the first eye contact they’d had in so long that Zoey couldn’t remember the last time. But Jay’s eyes glazed right over her.

“Let's go!” Nate shouted, clapping loudly as he took his place back at Zoey’s side.

 

* * *

 

“STAY ON HIM!” Alvey roared.

“You got time, you got time,” Nate called to Jay. 

“Stay on him!” Alvey continued. “Follow up! Follow up!” 

“Cover yourself!” Nate urged. 

“Shot for shot. Light him up! Light him up! Light him up! Yeah! Nice! Relax now. Relax, and lock it in!” 

“OH!” Nate shouted suddenly. One of Jay’s punches had landed just right across Ryan’s face. “He’s hurt! He’s hurt! Finish him!” 

“Ten seconds!” Beltran warned.

“Go, Jay, go!” Zoey cheered.

“Finish him, Jay! Finish him! Finish him!” Nate kept shouting. 

Jay was going wild, using all his energy to throw as many punches as he could in the little time he had left. 

The bell rang, and Jay flew up to Ryan’s face, his mouth in a wide, maniacal grin. It looked almost… Jay looked almost normal. He had blood splattered across his face and his mouth, and the craziness that usually inhabited his eyes had returned. Jay looked like Jay again. 

Ryan brushed off the advance, but inside, it had gotten him excited. Finally, there was a hint of the Jay that Ryan had been dying to fight. Yes. _Yes._  

“Ay, get back there!” Mike ordered, shoving himself between the two fighters. “Get in the corners. Let’s go.” 

“I’m glad you showed up,” Ryan called to him.

“Water, water, water,” Alvey called over his shoulder as he shoved Ryan to his corner.

“Look at me,” Nate urged, getting in front of his brother. “Jay. Look at me. Look. Don't get fucking caught, alright? He's desperate. He's fucking hurting. You're good. You're still in this fight, alright? Here, take some water. You hear me, though? You got to fucking knock him out. You can do this, okay? You can fucking do this.”

On the other side, Alvey was taking a different approach. “Keep working that leg, throw jabs in his fucking face. Go low, come high with the kick.” He dropped his voice and murmured into Ryan’s ear, “Don't let him out of this fucking round. I don't want him leaving this fucking round. It's over.” 

Ryan gave a single nod.

“Let's go! Seconds out! Seconds out!”

Nate and Alvey exited the cage, accidentally bumping shoulders a little bit but ignoring each other otherwise. Nate grimaced at his sister when he got back to the chairs.

“Alright, fourth round! You ready to fight? You ready to fight? Handle it! Let's go!”

“Get those hands up,” Nate called.

Alvey cupped a hand around his mouth and shouted, “Don't hang that jab out! Come on! He's done for!”

Ryan smashed his ankle into Jay’s face, sending Jay toppling to the ground. The audience let out a loud groan. Barely six or seven seconds after Ryan went in to beat the shit out of Jay, Mike pushed Ryan off of him. “Stop, stop, stop!”

A huge cheer went up. 

“AH!” Ryan shouted, bursting into an adrenaline-induced run inside the perimeter of the fence. His arms were flung out to the sides in abandon. “Where's my fucking belt?! Where's my fucking belt?! Where's my fucking belt?!”

Nate leaned slowly back into his chair as he watched Jay lying on the canvas. Every Kulina in the room felt a strong pang of hurt sting their chest.

“Stay down, stay down, stay down,” Mike murmured to Jay, who kept trying to sit up.

Within seconds, Zoey was pressed up against the fence, waiting for someone to come let her in. Several feet back, Lisa was frozen with a hand cupped over her mouth. From where she was standing, it looked as though Jay had been knocked unconscious. Christina, of course, was beside herself.

A team of medics rushed over, shining flashlights in Jay’s eyes and wiping blood off his face.

“Stay down, stay down… stay down. Jay! Stay down.”

“Jay,” Zoey called from the side. “It’s over, okay?” Jay blinked slowly and turned his head toward her, so she crouched down to be closer to his eye level and continued. “It's over, Jay. Stay down. Listen to the doctor.” 

He weakly nodded. He ceased his struggling and heavily exhaled. 

Nate slowly wandered over to where Mac, Lisa, and Christina were so that no one in the crowd would see his reaction and upload pictures later that night. Nate hadn’t realized how much he believed in Jay – not just in this fight, but deep down in his gut. For a moment, Nate had completely forgotten about all the bullshit that had gone on in the past two weeks. The past month. The past _year._ It had just been Jay and his Navy Street shorts, and to Nate, that automatically made Jay invincible. 

Maybe Zoey wasn’t the only one who still had some growing up to do. 

As Ryan grinned out at the crowd, Jay was being shakily helped onto a chair. The cage door opened, and Zoey stepped aside so Alvey could get in, and then Nate. She followed right behind them. All three of them made a beeline for Jay.

Alvey leaned down, taking Jay’s chin in his hand. “You good?” he asked.

Jay tried to nod.

“Look me in the eyes. Look at me. Look at me.”

“I'm good,” Jay muttered, still not quite making eye contact with his father.

“Alright.” Alvey rubbed Jay’s new buzzcut before he stood back up and headed for Ryan, wrapping him in a sweaty hug. “Good job. You did good. You did good. Good job.” 

“Jay,” Nate murmured, leaning down and placing a hand on his brother’s cheek. Jay didn’t bother trying to smile.

Zoey gently pulled him into her chest, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I love you,” she whispered. His hand found her elbow and held on tightly. He closed his eyes. A moment later, she and Nate lifted Jay to his feet, and someone passed Jay’s sleeveless sweatshirt to Zoey. She guided it over his shoulders. 

“Good job,” Ryan murmured to Jay, putting a cautious hand on Jay’s abs and then drawing him in for a hug. 

“Ladies and gentlemen, the official time... seventeen seconds of the third round. Your winner by knockout and new King Beast lightweight champion of the world, Ryan Wheeler!”

Ryan’s hand was raised, and a loud cheer of, “Wheeler! Wheeler! Wheeler!” came from the audience. Once Ryan’s belt had been fitted around his middle, the fighter went over to the Kulina siblings. He raised Jay’s hand, which prompted Jay to show Ryan a fake smile. Jay let Lisa lead him out of the cage. Ryan rubbed a hand over Nate’s hair and squeezed Zoey’s shoulder as they followed Jay and Lisa down the steps.

“Alright, I'm here with Ryan Wheeler,” Kenny said over the loudspeaker. “Ryan, what a relentless performance, man. This may have been your best performance so far. What'd you differently tonight, man?”

“For one thing, I got healthy, Kenny. And, uh... and first I got to thank Jay Kulina, man, for giving me this fight. He's a stud, he's a beast, and, uh... and people don't understand what he's been going through, the stuff he's been facing... Thanks, brother. Thanks, bro. You're the man, bro. Thank you.”

The sounds of the ballroom faded to nothing as Jay headed into the hallway, a sibling supporting him under each arm. It was only when it got quiet that Jay began to feel the throbbing of his temple, notice the strain in his calf, taste the blood gushing out of his nose and into his mouth…

After another quick checkup with the medics, Lisa walked the three siblings to Nate’s car, which they wordlessly climbed into. Zoey got in the back, and she was surprised when Jay followed her instead of occupying the passenger seat. Her confusion dissipated when Jay leaned into her side, accidentally smearing blood across her bare shoulder. “I’ve got you,” she murmured and wrapped a gentle arm around him.

Nate glanced at her in the rear view mirror, making sure she was alright. She nodded at him, and Nate lifted a hand at Lisa, who was watching anxiously from outside the glass. Nate pushed the car into reverse, and the Kulinas headed silently to the hospital.

 

* * *

 

“Hey. Good work, buddy,” Alvey congratulated as he walked into the green room. 

“Hey,” Ryan replied. “How's Jay?” 

“Nate and Zo are taking him to the hospital to check him out.”

“Should we go by and see him?” Ryan asked.

“Nah, he’ll want to be with his brother and sister. And I think his mother’s going, too. We'll give them some space. 

“Alright.” 

“He'll be okay,” Alvey assured. 

“Okay.” 

“How are you doing?” 

Ryan shrugged. “Broken toe, I think, but, you know, I'm good.”

“It was a hell of a fight, man. Seriously. That's how you finish it.” Alvey smiled. “Your pop would be proud.”

Ryan nodded distractedly. “Yeah. Hey, listen.” He cleared his throat and reached beside him for the belt. He held it out like an offering to a god. “I want to give you this, Alvey.”

“I-I can't fucking take your belt.”

“No, please, Alvey.”

“I can't fucking take that, man,” Alvey insisted.

“Put it in the gym, then. I want to... I want to keep pushing like I don't have it. I want to, you know, keep hungry. Here.” He shoved it into Alvey’s lap. 

“You sure?” Alvey checked. 

Ryan nodded firmly. “Yeah.” 

“Alright. I'll put it in the gym.” 

“Alright.” Quiet fell, and Ryan took a sip of his beer. “I fucking wish it wasn't Jay. Or I wish he was at his peak-” 

“Ryan,” Alvey interrupted loudly. “Fuck you. Fuck you.”

Ryan chuckled. 

“ _Stop_. You're not going to shit on this fucking win. You understand me? _You_ won the fight. He fucking lost. Who do you want to be?”

Ryan was silent.

“Who do you want to be?” Alvey repeated.

“Me,” Ryan muttered. 

“You. That’s right.” Alvey shook his head and laughed a little in disbelief. “Neurotic motherfucker,” he mused. “Come on, man.”

The door swung open, and Lisa entered. “Alvey.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Kenny's ready for you.” 

“Okay, I'm coming.” He got to his feet and turned to Ryan. “Listen, I'll see you in a couple days. Enjoy the fucking win.” 

“Alright.” 

“Good boy,” Alvey nodded. He bumped Ryan’s shoulder with his knuckles as he disappeared.

“Thanks, coach.” 

Lisa was left standing in the room with Ryan. “Hey,” she murmured. 

“Hey.” He passed her a beer. 

“Oh, why, thank you,” she said, cracking it open and drinking a sip. “Congratulations.” 

“Thanks.” 

“You looked great out there.” 

He nodded. “Thanks. I hope Jay's all right.” 

“I know.”

“Yeah.” 

Lisa sighed awkwardly. “Okay, so, I should go.”

“Wait,” Ryan said quickly. “What are you doing tonight? What – what are you doing?” 

Lisa shrugged and pretended to think about it. “Nothing.”

“You want to do something?” Ryan proposed. 

Lisa shot him a skeptical look. 

“It's either you, or I'm going home to stare at a wall.”

 

* * *

 

It was a twenty-minute trip from the venue to the hospital, and soon Jay was given a bed and an IV. A quarter of an hour passed before Nate and Zoey were allowed to see him. The twins went in together, taking chairs by the bed. The three were much quieter than usual, but Zoey kept some sense of normalcy going because she sat forward and held Jay’s hand.

Jay looked bad; some of the dried blood was still on his face, and his body looked even worse up close than it had when Zoey had seen it from far away. Worst of all, his eyes were still dead. But he was safe now. She was comforted by that. And he must have been clean enough, because they’d let him fight. They wouldn’t have if he’d failed the drug tests. 

“I’m fucking proud of you for getting out there and fighting tonight,” Zoey murmured. “You did so fucking good.” 

Jay snorted. 

“I know. But…” She gave his forearm a squeeze. “I know how hard it is when you just want to stay in your room. But you didn’t. You went out there and did what you needed to do.” She stroked a fond hand over his hair. “You did ten times more than what anyone asked of you.” 

He looked at her and lifted his fingers to run down her cheek. She beamed at the affection, and he felt his heart squeeze in his chest. “Missed you,” he murmured. 

Her eyes shut tightly and she tilted her chin in his grasp so she could kiss his palm. “I missed you more.” 

“Not possible,” he whispered. 

She gave him a shy smile. 

Nate sat forward and placed a hand on Zoey’s back.

“I love you guys,” Jay said softly.

“You, too,” Nate replied as Zoey responded, “We love you, too.”

Jay nodded to himself and then closed his eyes. Zoey leaned over to Nate, and the pair embraced. God, it had been such a rough two days, but they’d all survived it. Barely, but they made it. Jay would be safe here. Zoey would be safe here, too.

It was eerie being back here after just four weeks away. But Zoey was whole again, at least on the outside, and for the moment, that was all Nate could ask for. She shifted in his grasp, seeming to sense where his thoughts were going, and she held him tighter. As he rubbed his sister’s back, Nate let himself lean into her shoulder to take a deep breath. It felt so fucking good to close his eyes. He hadn’t realized how tired he was until Zoey had hugged him. She was so warm, and it made him sleepy. Speaking of sleepy- 

“Oh,” Nate whispered. He sat up, and Zoey watched curiously as he dug in his sweatshirt pocket. “Here. Almost forgot.” He produced her green, oval-shaped pill.

“I’m supposed to take this in the morning,” she told him.

He nodded. “I know. But I overslept, and I didn’t leave it out for you today. I don’t want you to miss another dose.” 

She nodded and popped it into her mouth, making a face as she started to swallow it dry. 

“No, here,” Nate muttered, reaching for Jay’s half-empty paper cup of water. 

She took it from him and drank a generous gulp to help push the medicine down. “Thanks.”

He nodded.

“Nate,” someone said, making all three siblings jump. Christina. “Could I talk to you for a minute?”

Nate got up from his chair and followed his mother to the hallway.

“Go to Jay's motel. Get his clothes. Bring them home.” 

Nate nodded and murmured, “I’m gonna take Zebra to Dad’s. Let us say bye to Jay, and then we’ll go.” 

Christina nodded. 

“Zebra,” Nate said softly, coming back in. “Let’s go home, okay?” 

Jay opened his eyes but didn’t let any emotion cross his face. Zoey looked at Nate sadly but nodded. Jay needed rest, and he would try to stay awake if he knew she and Nate were still there for him. She stood up, uncurling her legs from underneath herself and getting to her feet. She yawned and went to her brother, leaning down to give him a gentle kiss on the forehead. “I love you so much,” she told him. “I’ll see you in the morning.” 

Jay ran a hand over her back as she carefully hugged him. “See you in the morning,” he echoed.

Nate went over for a hug, too, and he murmured a goodnight. He wrapped his arm around Zoey’s shoulders while Jay told them again that he loved them. The oldest boy watched his little brother and sister as they walked out. Barely three seconds after they disappeared, Christina came in and shut the door behind her. She looked at Jay with immense worry in her eyes.

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” Jay told her. “I'm okay. Really.”

She didn’t say anything back, but she removed a folded up piece of paper from her purse. Jay could see her handwriting on it, and, immediately, he grew nervous. 

"Dear Jay,” she started, “I know that I've been a disappointment to you.” 

Jay closed his eyes. 

“I know that you feel that I never wanted you. I see the things that you do and the ways that you hurt yourself, and I know it's because of the choices I've made. And even when you had the courage to beg me to stop using and just stay home, I still didn't choose you... because I didn't care if I was alive. I wanted to die." 

Jay’s lips twitched as he fought off a fresh round of tears. 

"For a child to feel that they are not reason enough for their mother to live is beyond cruel." 

Christina fell silent, but Jay knew she wasn’t done, so he stayed quiet as well. Finally, she continued.

“I don't expect you to forgive me or even accept my apology. But I am so deeply sorry for the pain I have put you through… for the innocence I cost you…” Her voice broke. “…and for not truly being your mother.”

Jay opened his eyes to stare at the ceiling. 

“I can never love you enough to make up for it,” she finished, “but I'm going to try." 

She reached forward to place the piece of paper on Jay’s blankets. He pressed his palm into it, the palm Zoey had just kissed, and closed his eyes again.

There was nothing to say.

 

* * *

 

The car ride was quiet. The engine growled and the radio was on, but Nate and Zoey didn’t speak. When they pulled up to Dad's house, there were no lights on. Nate turned off the engine and looked at his sister. “You want me to go in with you?” 

She shook her head and started to get out of the car. “No, I’m tired. Probably just gonna go to bed.” There was a sound from inside the house, and both Nate and Zoey turned to see Abigail skittering up to the glass door with her tail whipping back and forth. A small smile crossed Zoey’s face. She glanced at Nate. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” 

He nodded. 

“Alright. Love you," she said over her shoulder.

“You, too,” he mumbled. 

She faltered and turned back to him. Her eyebrows wrinkled when she asked him, “Are you okay?” 

“Tired,” he shrugged.

“Yeah,” she replied softly.  

“Abby’s waiting,” Nate reminded her.

“Yeah. Alright.” She stood up but didn’t close the car door behind herself. She studied his face. “You sure you’re-”

“Yes. Go.”

She sighed. “Kay.” 

“Get some sleep.”

“Yeah, you, too.” 

“Later,” Nate promised. 

“Alright. Night.” 

“Night.”

She closed the car door behind herself and waved at Abigail as she walked to the house. Nate made sure she got in okay (he watched as she greeted the dog and headed into the kitchen to turn on the light) and then turned the car back on. He backed slowly down the driveway and started the long trip to the Pink Motel.

 

* * *

  

“But... over the... last couple months, like, there was no quality of life at all, so... And my dad sure as shit wasn't going in a home,” Ryan said with a chuckle. “So, now I guess it was a blessing. Just... But I really do think that God gives people as much as they can handle.” 

“Fuck,” Lisa sighed. “Yeah, okay. Maybe.” 

He shrugged. 

“Are you a God person now?” 

“I took his bible. I've been kind of reading it. But it’s not like my dad was some big Christian.” 

“I didn't think so,” Lisa laughed. Her smile turned somber. “I wish I could've said goodbye.”

“I told him for you,” Ryan lied.

“Mm, really?” Lisa asked, not believing him.

“Mm-hmm. He was like... ‘Who?’” They both laughed. “He was such a dick,” Ryan fondly mused.

“You seem really good,” Lisa told him genuinely. 

“I am now. Finally. It took a while.”

 

* * *

 

 

Zoey wandered up the staircase with Abby at her heels. She took a minute to run her fingers over Jay's blood on her shoulder before she turned on the shower and got under it. Once she was clean, dried off, and in her pajamas, she found her way into Nate’s room. She opened his desk drawer and shuffled papers, tickets, breath mints, and pens around inside it until she uncovered Jay’s old Walkman. She hoped the batteries would still work. 

As she sat down on the edge of Nate’s unmade bed, she reached into her bag for the CD Adam had burned for her. She popped the disc into the Walkman and closed the top, and the old CD player whirred to life. It flashed the number nine on the display, and without even having to think, Zoey [pressed play](https://8tracks.com/daysofaly/mix-cd-vol-1).  
  
Familiar chords filled her ears, and she closed her eyes, settling back into Nate’s pillows with a small smile on her face.

 

* * *

 

 

Tank tops. Cigarette cartons. Drug paraphernalia. Half-eaten bags of Chex Mix and barely sipped-at bottles of Gatorade. Discarded pairs of shorts. A toothbrush and a tube of toothpaste. Flip flops. A lighter. 

Everything went into the bag. Jay could sort through it later. Nate just needed to get it the fuck out of there and get Jay back home where he belonged. 

Once he’d cleaned out the bathroom and gotten everything both off of and out of the dresser, Nate moved to tackle the nightstand. Empty water bottles, painkillers, another lighter, a container of sleeping pills, a phone charger, a wad of cash… Nate swept it all into the bag. He was almost done when something caught his eye. 

All the breath was sucked out of his lungs. 

Nate swallowed and shakily reached toward the red and white card. Maybe Ava had been in contact with someone from the agency. She was a model, right? Or maybe Jay had met Will at a party or something. He flipped it over. Maybe- 

 _Mea culpa. Dinner?_  

Nate let go of everything and collapsed onto the mattress. Fuck. _Fuck._

It all made sense – the call from Will, the text messages that he hadn't sent but had come from his phone, the way Jay wouldn’t look him in the eye anymore… Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. Telling Zoey had been one thing, with her big heart and the way she worshipped Nate like he was some strong, brave, infallible hero. But Jay? They were close as fuck, always had been, but Jay was an endless fountain of homophobic jokes and quiet judgment. 

Suddenly, it made perfect sense that he hadn’t wanted to confide in Nate earlier. It was clear why he wouldn't meet up with him for runs, why he didn't want to train with or even speak to Nate, why he literally held a hand up to block Nate’s face. 

Nate squeezed his eyes shut and buried his face in the scratchy comforter.

 

* * *

  

"My dad went on a full mental-health offensive. Therapists and psychiatrists and grief people…” Lisa sighed. She admitted, “Full suicide watch... He was _not_ gonna let me be alone in a room.” 

“Were you thinking about it?” 

“Killing myself?” 

“Mm-hmm.”

She paused for a long time, so long that Ryan couldn’t tell whether or not her answer was genuine. “No. But… I do fantasize about being dead with my son.” 

“I don't know why this happened to you,” he murmured.

Her response came in a whisper. “Sometimes I think I caused it.” 

Ryan looked up at her, shocked. “That's not fucking true.”

“No, it is,” she insisted. “I didn't want him. I thought he was someone that Alvey stuck me with and that he was gonna ruin my life. I swear to god he felt that. I know he did. And it kills me.” Her tone shifted. “But then when we got to San Francisco, that all changed. It's just... It was just him and me, and… I fell so in love. I thought about our whole life, and the way that he would look at me…”

“Lisa,” Ryan said helplessly. 

She tried to smile. “I know.”

  

* * *

 

 

When Alvey finally wrapped up all his interviews and climbed into his car, he found himself automatically driving back to the gym. Once he got there, he sat down in his desk chair and poured himself a generous helping of some of the alcohol he kept in his drawer. Honestly, he wasn’t sure what he was drinking. But it didn’t matter. He just needed something to keep everything at bay.

He toasted the box of Chapas’ ashes and downed a large gulp from his glass.

He stared at the container as he drank the rest of the alcohol.

 

* * *

 

Lisa waited on the hotel bed for Ryan to emerge from the bathroom, drumming her fingers anxiously on her knee. He had barely been gone for thirty seconds when he came back out. Lisa opened the door to her room to let him go, but he reached past her and closed it.

As she turned around in confusion, he stopped her and brushed his lips against the corner of her mouth.

She froze for a second but then pulled him in. They crashed lightly against the back of the door, and it felt so right for Lisa to have Ryan with her, kissing her like this. She told him once that he wouldn’t get it all back in one night. And in some ways, he hadn’t. More than a year had gone by since that conversation, since the night he kissed her in Jay and Nate and Zoey’s bathroom.

This was different. He’d won a pivotal fight. He was off probation. He was _good._ And Lisa was single. But more, they understood each other better than they ever had. They had grown apart, grown up, grown back together.

As much as it killed her to think it, in that moment she didn’t miss Alvey at all. Ryan was perfect, with his loving heart and his big smile and his fake humility. Including Alvey and Jay, Ryan was the cockiest person Lisa had ever met. But still, she loved every piece of him, even after all this time. She didn’t want to be anywhere else.

 

* * *

 

 

Alvey opened the box in the octagon. Inside was a white, plastic bag filled three quarters of the way with gray ashes. Alvey dumped a small pile of them onto the canvas, remembering the night he and Chapas had spent, drinking and talking… it seemed like so much time had passed.  
  
Zoey was gone, Nate was in that funk, and Jay was… Jay was still his son. Things had changed.

Alvey held up his bottle and crossed it over his chest the way he’d learned to cross his hand at church when he was a child. He took a drink and winced as the alcohol burned on the way down. 

He scooped the ashes back into the box as best he could, walked the whole thing outside, and dropped it into the dumpster.

 

* * *

  

“Hey,” Jay said when Nate came back into the hospital room. “Buenos noches. You drop Zee off at home?”

Nate didn’t speak. Jay could sense that something was wrong, but he'd learned from experience that the best way to get Nate to talk was to wait in silence until he was ready. 

There was a long, uncomfortable pause while Nate worked up the courage to pull the worn notecard out of his sweatshirt pocket. He held it up so Jay could see it, and then he hung his head. 

Jay swallowed thickly but still didn’t say anything. He stared at the wall, unmoving.

“Well,” Nate whispered, his voice weak, “…now you know.”

“Why didn't you tell me?” Jay asked softly, turning to look at his little brother.

That wasn’t the question Nate had been expecting. It was all he could do not to tear up. “I really don't want anyone to know. At the gym, or, you know... Especially not… Dad. It’s, you know…”

“You don't... You don't think he'll be cool with it?” Jay started laughing, and it forced a few coughs out of him.

At the sound of Jay’s laugh, Nate couldn’t help but smile. He blinked, but all the tears managed to stay in his eyes. He took that as a good sign. Jay continued laughing at his own little joke, and the younger boy took a seat in the chair he’d been in an hour before.

“Nate,” Jay continued, the smile still on his face, “it's your life. It's not for me to say anything.” 

Nate remained hesitant. His tears swam dangerously in his eyes. “Are you mad?”

“That you're gay?” 

Nate shrugged, then nodded.

“Of course not.”

“Are you sure?” Nate whispered hoarsely. He looked up at Jay, and all Jay could see was the nervous, shy four-year old who was afraid to start preschool.

“I’m sure,” Jay promised. 

Nate swallowed. “Are – are you mad that I didn't tell you?” 

Jay’s posture deflated and he shook his head. This kid… “No, not at all. Nate, not at all, I promise. But I'm sorry that you felt like you couldn't.” 

“Yeah,” Nate muttered, swiping at his eyes. 

“But listen to me when I tell you that _nothing_ changes between us. I swear to god.” 

“Yeah,” Nate repeated. 

“Except...” Jay pointed at him, shifting gears in order to cheer him up. “You better be on top. Because you're my brother, and you do the fucking.”

Nate covered his face and chuckled.

“You look me in the eyes when I’m talking to you right now, son," Jay ordered. "You understand what I'm saying? Look at me when I tell you this.”

Nate played along, putting his hand down and trying not to smile.

Jay put on his big brother voice. “You better be doing the fucking. Nathaniel,” he said firmly, “you're my brother, and there's a certain line that needs to be toed.”

“Are you done?” Nate laughed. 

“No, sir. I'm not. I always knew you were gay. You've got a lot of gay qualities!”

“I don't have any gay qualities,” Nate protested. 

Of course, Jay launched into a list. “You're very gentle. You always go out of your way to be nice. You smell delightful, you know?” 

Nate playfully sniffed his own shoulder. 

“Yeah, you dress well... But if you turn our house into a Palm Springs pool fiesta, I'll tell you, I'm moving out, and I’m taking Little Zee with me. She doesn’t need to fucking see that, no sir.” Jay watched Nate smile for a few more seconds before he let the conversation turn serious again. “Does, uh. Does Zoey know?”

“Uh, yeah, actually.” 

Jay raised his eyebrows, but Nate just shrugged. When Jay held out his hand a few seconds later, Nate took it.

“I love you, dude. That’s never gonna change. No matter what.” 

“Love you,” Nate replied, tightly gripping Jay’s hand between both of his own. 

They two brothers sat quietly together, soaking in the moment. And then – “Go to bed,” Nate said with a tiny smile. “Just go to bed.” He pressed a button on the wall to make Jay’s mattress recline. 

“You'll make a real nice nurse someday,” Jay mused. 

“Okay,” Nate responded sarcastically, trying – and failing – not to roll his eyes. 

“Make a nice man very lucky.” 

Even with the dumb comments hanging in the air, Nate couldn’t seem to wipe the grin off his face. “Okay.”

 

* * *

 

When Nate got home, Alvey was reading in his room. Nate stopped in the doorway and wondered how many times before Abigail had been allowed in Alvey’s room. Was it a normal thing, or was tonight a special occurrence? The dog was snoring lightly on the ground at the foot of the bed. Alvey looked up from his MMA magazine, and Nate gave his father a little wave.

“Hey,” Alvey said. “How’s your brother doing?” 

“Seems okay.” 

“Good. Your, uh. Your sister’s asleep in your room. Just a heads up.” 

Nate nodded. “Kay. Night, Dad.”

“Night.”

Nate started to walk away, but Alvey felt like he needed to add something. 

“Hey, Nate?”

Nate went back to lean against the doorjamb.

“You were fucking great tonight. All month, actually. I don’t… I don’t think this fight would have happened tonight if it wasn’t for you.”

Nate scoffed to himself. Great. 

“I know… I know it was hard for you, me not coaching Jay, but-” 

“Me?” Nate interrupted. “You think it was fucking hard for _me_?” He shook his head and blew out an exasperated breath. 

“Hey,” Alvey murmured. “Nate, hey.” 

“It’s fine,” Nate lied tersely. “Just – Jay’s a fucking person, you know.” He looked right at his father, the anger and hurt plain in his eyes when he spat, “We all are.” 

“Nate,” Alvey repeated sadly, but Nate just waved him off and walked down the hall to his room, scrubbing a hand over his hair as he went.

Alvey was right about one thing; Zoey was sound asleep in Nate's bed – well, _on_ his bed, rather – with Jay’s silver, beaten-up Walkman resting on her stomach as she breathed slowly in and out. The plastic 90s headphones sat on her ears, slightly lopsided like she’d moved in her sleep and knocked them out of place. 

Nate went forward and carefully took the headphones away from her. He turned the Walkman off and set it on his nightstand, and then he sighed and stripped his sweatshirt, socks, and jeans off and headed down the hall to the shower in his boxers and Navy Street shirt. 

He stared at his reflection as the water got warm, thinking about the years when Jay’s toothbrush would lie on the counter next to his. He remembered when they used to call Zoey’s room “the baby’s room,” and the two brothers had to tiptoe down the hall if they were going to play in Jay’s bedroom because they didn’t want to wake her up from her nap. That would definitely get them in trouble with Dad. Nate remembered when the three siblings all moved out at once, and it felt like a betrayal to come back “home” when there was only one toothbrush on the counter. Living with Jay was betraying Dad, but leaving Jay and coming home to Dad's left a bigger pit in his stomach. 

Nate thought guiltily about how glad he was that Zoey hadn’t attempted suicide anywhere but in her bathroom, because it seemed to be the only place in the house that Nate never spent any time. But Zoey had to go in there every day. He’d honestly been surprised when she stopped using his bathroom after barely two days and switched back to her own. If it were him, he’d never set foot in that space again. Though he supposed they both had a very different experience in those few moments.

Nate blinked, and it occurred to him that he couldn’t see himself in the mirror anymore. The glass had long-since fogged up. He steeled his jaw; it had been quite a while since he'd gotten so lost in his thoughts.

The house was silent as Nate shoved his boxers down to his ankles and peeled his t-shirt off, leaving them in a heap on the floor. He stepped under the slightly too-hot water and turned the dial so the steamy stream wouldn’t burn him as much (he hated getting out of the shower with pink skin). A moment later, he was busy scrubbing his hair with shampoo and running soapy hands all over his body. Thoughts of Will danced around his mind for a while, and then Nate forced himself out of the shower, wrapping himself in a soft towel. He left his clothes lying on the tile and unknowingly created a trail of fat water droplets that traveled the length of the hallway.

He dressed quietly even though he knew Zoey wouldn’t wake even if he didn’t put in the extra effort. Better to be careful anyway, though, because he knew if she stopped sleeping, she’d want to ask him questions and talk about Jay and the fight. Nate loved his little sister more than just about anything, but he didn’t feel like talking, and nothing would change that. Not tonight. 

He put on a pair of boxers and started toward his bed only to realize that he wasn’t tired. So instead of lying down, he sat cross-legged on the middle of the mattress with his back to the door and his body facing the headboard. Curiosity got the better of him, and he retrieved the Walkman from his night table and put the headphones over his ears. He slid the button to turn it on, and the number nine popped up on the dim display. Nate hit play on the machine, and a Beatles song started. 

 _When I find myself in times of trouble_  
_Mother Mary comes to me_  
_Whisper words of wisdom  
_ _Let it be_

While Nate listened, he stared at Zoey’s arm. He couldn’t see the right one, which was okay. The laceration on that one wasn't so bad; it was the left one that still made his stomach ache. He looked anxiously at the visible scar, and with it, her tattoo. He could never have explained to her how special it was to him that she asked him to go with her to get it. Nate took tattoos very seriously.

 _And when the broken-hearted people_  
_Living in the world agree_  
_There will be an answer_  
_Let it be_  
  
_For though they may be parted there is_  
_Still a chance that they will see_  
_There will be an answer_  
_Let it be_

He blinked and suddenly sat forward, giving her wrist a little nudge so he could see the whole thing. Now that he was looking at it from this angle, it almost looked like – holy shit. It was. When Jay had packed up Zoey’s room at the old house, before he dragged all the boxes into her room at Dad’s, Jay had stopped to show Nate the drawing Zoey had kept after all those years that read “Nate and Little Zebra’s Room” in messy green crayon. Around the words, Nate remembered that he had drawn his interpretation of outer space; a rocket, a litter of stars, and this very doodle of Saturn. Fuck.

His eyes welled up with tears for the third time that day. Goddamn him. He needed to go lift some weights or swallow some egg yolks or something. He shook his head at himself and tried to turn his focus back to the song. 

 _And when the night is cloudy_  
_There is still a light that shines on me_  
_Shine until tomorrow_  
_Let it be_  

The thick, jagged line of scar tissue on Zoey’s arm was burned into Nate’s eyes, even after he closed them. Nate abruptly shut off the music. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~fin~
> 
> drop me a comment, and please let me know if you want me to write s3 (which starts airing in THREE DAYS! AHH!)


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